Over Time
by Angeleyez
Summary: [complete] Jess hadn’t done this to her, she was just angry. Anger. Which stage of dealing with death was that? No that was wrong. He wasn't dead. Although, after four years, there wasn’t much of a difference between a coma and death.
1. The Final Stage

**Title**:  Over Time

**Author**:  Angeleyez

**Rating**:  PG: 13

**Disclaimer**:  Don't own Gilmore Girls.  Don't sue.  I'm poor.  (I also don't own Evanescence or any of their songs, what a shocker.)

**Summary**:  Jess and Rory were together until a car accident took Jess away from her.  He's in a coma and she's trying to move on with her life.  Five years later, Rory's finally moving on with someone else when she gets word that Jess is awake.

**A/N**:  Hey, it's me.  What do you know?  Another story.  Heh.  About Last Night is going on temporary hold due to some writer's block.  Here's a different one for your reading pleasure.  Well, review and let me know what you think.  

**Chapter One**:  The Final Stage

_*These wounds won't seem to heal  
This pain is just too real  
There's just too much that time cannot erase*_

"I hate this place," Rory said.

"Then why don't you leave?"  Jess asked.

"I don't want to.  Not yet."

"Then stop complaining."

Rory opened her mouth to say something else but then closed it.  No need to start a fight.  She really did hate this place though.  Everything was white.  The color and brightness was supposed to distract people from the pain and death.  It wasn't working.  There was a strong smell of antiseptic too and it was giving her a headache.

"I graduated yesterday," she blurted out.

"Really?"

"Yup.  I'm a Harvard graduate."

"I'm so proud."

"And I'm moving to New York City.  I have an apartment all picked out."

"Already?"  He asked.

"I have been looking for awhile."

"So the small town girl is going off to the big city?"

"Don't make fun of me."

"I'm not."

"Yes you are and you shouldn't because…I'm kind of scared," Rory admitted.

"Oh, come on.  You've been living in Boston for the past four years."

"But I was at a dorm with other people.  I had a roommate."

"Ah, Jane.  The one who talked to herself when she thought no one was around."

Rory shifted uncomfortably.  "Don't talk about people who talk to themselves."

"Sorry."  He paused.  "You'll be fine in New York.  I lived there after all and look how I turned out."

"Oh, god."

"I'm kidding."

"You claim to be kidding.  But really New York is going to turn me into some lawn gnome stealing, Hemingway loving criminal."

"Now who's making fun of who?"  He asked.

She grinned.  "I'm not making fun."

He was silent for a second. "Don't worry, Ror.  You're going to be just fine in New York.  You'll love it."  He paused.  "You're gonna make it after all."

"Oh, God.  Now I'm Mary Tyler Moore."

"I wouldn't recommend spinning around on a sidewalk and throwing your hat up in the air."

Rory laughed.  "I'll keep that in mind."  

"You shouldn't be nervous anyway.  You have Sam, right?"

Rory froze at the name.  Her voice was soft, "Yeah.  He'll be there too."

"It's okay, you know.  I'm not angry."

"But you should be.  I'm sorry."

"Ror, don't apologize.  I'm glad you're with Sam.  You'll be happier with him."

"He told me he loved me," she whispered.

"Do you love him too?"

"It's funny.  His eyes are brown like yours.  I'm beginning to forget what your eyes look like."

"Ror?"

She sighed.  "I told him I loved him too."

"That doesn't answer the question."

"I do.  I think I do."

"You have to stop feeling so guilty.  It's okay to love someone else."

Rory didn't want to have this conversation anymore so she changed the subject.  "You know, you're not so monosyllabic anymore."

"Well, we only have you to blame for that."

"True.  But I like it when you talk more.  I like the sound of your voice."  Her voice cracked.  "I miss the sound of your voice.  I miss kissing you."

"Kiss me if you want.  No one's stopping you."

"It's not the same."

"I know."

The chair she was sitting in began to feel uncomfortable.  They really should put cushions in these chairs.  People sometimes sat here for hours and with the emotional roller coaster they were sure to be going through, they should at least have comfortable seats.  She stood up and moved closer to the bed.  "I think I should go."

"Why did you come today?"  He asked.

She stared down at his closed eyes.  It looked like he was sleeping.  "I always come to visit you."

"Not in the past year you haven't."  He wasn't being judgmental or mean.  He was only stating a fact.

"I'm sorry about that.  I was busy with school.  It was my last year."

"You're not going to be coming around anymore, huh?"

"Yes, I will.  Well, I'll try.  I'll be starting a job soon."  She paused to swallow her tears.  "I'm sorry.  But you couldn't understand how hard it is to see you like this."

"Of course I understand, Ror.  I am a part of you after all."

"I forget that sometimes.  That must be a sign of me losing my mind."

"You know I'm not real.  You're not completely crazy."

"I'm semi-crazy?  So when they put me in the mental ward, only half of the room will be padded?"

"Something like that," he said.

She reached down and pushed some of his hair off his forehead.  Then she leaned down and gave him a soft kiss on his lips.  "I'm going to miss you." 

"You've missed me for the past four years, Ror.  It's been long enough."

"Goodbye, Jess.  I'll try to come back soon."

"No you won't.  But it's okay.  I love you anyway."

Sighing, she walked over to the door.  She hesitated with her hand on the doorknob.  Don't turn around, she told herself.  It will only make it harder.  She finally opened it and stepped out.  Closing it behind her, she stopped right in front of it.  

The hallway was very busy.  Nurses and patients were milling about.  Down to the right, Rory spotted a woman and her young daughter sitting down.  A doctor was talking to them with a grim expression on his face.  Rory's heart dropped.  She couldn't hear what he was saying but she could only imagine.  The two women would be devastated but the doctor would go on with his day like normal.  This was routine to him.  

It had been routine to the doctor who had told Rory that Jess would probably never wake up.  He had said that he was sorry and that if there was anything he could do then let him know.  Later on, he had passed Rory crying by the snack machine without saying a word.  She knew he had seen her.  He didn't even slow down, just took a sip of his coffee and continued on his way.

"Hello, Rory.  I haven't seen you in a while."

Rory turned at the sound of her name.  "Hi, Dolly."

"Come have a cup of coffee with me.  I have a few minutes," she said beckoning with her hand.

"Sure.  That sounds good."  Rory walked down the hall with her.  Dolly was a nurse at the hospital and had been working there for years.  She was the one who four years ago hadn't ignored Rory's tears beside the snack machine.  She had come right over and put her hand on her arm telling her that she would get through this.  

They sat down each with a coffee in hand.  Rory stared down at hers and her stomach turned.  The coffee here was horrible.

Dolly didn't say anything at first.  Then, "I talk to Carl sometimes.  It's completely normal to do so."  

It was obvious Dolly had heard her speaking to Jess.  "Does he ever talk back?"

Dolly laughed.  "Sometimes."  Carl had been Dolly's son.  

Wait, had been?  Past tense?  Was that the tense you were supposed to use when talking about the dead?  That had always confused Rory.  Being dead didn't change the fact that Carl's her son.  

Carl is Dolly's son.  

Jess was Rory's boyfriend.  That remained past tense.

"Well, I'm glad I'm not the only crazy one."

"Honey, everybody's crazy.  Some are better at hiding it than others."

Rory smiled.  "Good point."  She paused.  "How's John?"  John was Dolly's husband.  He had a heart condition but Rory couldn't remember the big medical name for it.

"Not so well.  He's in a room on the second floor," Dolly answered.

Rory's stomach began to knot up.  That was not what she wanted her to say.  She wanted to hear that John was super and that he still painted.  He was supposed to be a wonderful artist.  

"I'm sorry," she whispered. Suddenly, she didn't feel so much like talking.  "I think I should go."

"So soon?"  Dolly asked surprised.

"Yeah, I'm sorry.  I don't like being in hospitals."  

"Alright, then.  I'll see you later"

Rory smiled and said her goodbye.  She probably wouldn't see Dolly again.  At least not for a very long time.  She began walking down the hall, dodging people in wheelchairs and nurses too busy looking at clipboards to watch where they were going.  Rory passed by Jess's door and almost stopped.

But she didn't.

Suddenly, it felt like walls were closing in.  The smell of antiseptic was strong and her headache felt worse.

Once she hit the outside, she no longer felt like she was suffocating.  She headed out of the parking lot as she heard ambulance sirens in the distance.  Another life lost, someone else's life ruined.  She walked quickly down the sidewalk.  The bus stop was less than a mile away but she found herself wishing for the comfort of her car.  Her beloved car, "Bob", was no longer hers.  It would be useless in New York so she had sold it to a caring family a couple of days ago.  

Now she walking and had nothing to distract herself.  And even though she didn't want to think about Jess, it was where her mind wandered.  She felt like she was betraying him.  Being with another guy, possibly loving him.  Wait.  Wasn't he the one who had betrayed her?  Leaving her all alone and…oh, who was she kidding?  It's not like he had thrown himself in front of the car.  He hadn't done this to her, she was just angry.  Anger.  Which stage of dealing with death was that?

Death?  For god sakes, he wasn't dead.  But then again, after four years, there wasn't much of a difference between a coma and death.  

What was it like to be in a coma anyway?  Rory often wondered about it.  After Jess's accident, she had spent many hours researching his condition.  The problem was that she had found that anyone who awoken from a coma didn't remember what it was like.  

She vaguely remembered a dream she had where she was unable to move any part of her body.  Her eyes wouldn't even open.  She had awoken with a start, shaking.  The paralysis had terrified her.  What if that was what it was like to be comatose?  Hearing everything that is going on around you but not being able to move.  Stuck in some weird in-between because the people you loved couldn't let you go and pull the damn plug.  Rory sighed.  She hoped it wasn't like that for him.

Sitting down at the bus stop, she checked her watch.  Only five minutes to wait.  She had a feeling that this was the last time she was going to do this.  Visiting him was so hard.  She didn't like seeing him surrounded by machines.  He couldn't breathe on his own while she could.  It was so…wrong.  

Talking to him had made her feel better.  She was always talking to Jess; the doctor said it was good for him.  As if the doctor had any idea.  This had been the second time he had talked back.  She knew it wasn't really him but she needed to imagine that he was okay.  And that he wasn't angry that she had finally (well, kind of sort of) moved on.  She wasn't crazy.  Just guilty.

The bus pulled up in front of her.  She was the only one waiting.  Up the steps, pay the fare, go down the aisle.  She repeated these instructions to herself.  Once she was sitting down she had nothing to do but look out the window.  She remembered the good old days where all she needed was a book to occupy her time.  

The last time she had read a novel…that had to be four years ago.  Sitting at the bus stop in Stars Hollow with the copy of On the Road that Jess had given to her in her lap.  That was the day she had gotten the phone call from Lorelai.  The day she had gone to the hospital.  

That was the day her life ended.

She missed reading almost as much as she missed Jess.  But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't read.  And she had tried.  Many times.  But reading had been something her and Jess had together.  It reminded her so much of him.  Now every time she opened a book, she couldn't concentrate on the words.

Closing her eyes, she leaned back against her seat.  Jess was gone.  Forever.  And she needed to accept that.

Acceptance.

Wasn't that the final stage?

**A/N**:  Hope you liked the chapter.  (Btw…those lyrics are from the song "My Immortal" by Evanescence.)  Review and let me know what you think.  More to come…


	2. The Million Dollar Question

**Disclaimer**:  I still don't own Gilmore Girls.  But I bought Jess off of eBay.  *wink*  It's really amazing what is being auctioned off these days.  (The lyrics are from "My Immortal" by Evanescence which I don't own.)

**Chapter Two**:  The Million Dollar Question

_You used to captivate me by your resonating light  
But now I'm bound by the life you left behind  
Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams  
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me_

Back in simpler times, where Rory's biggest upset was when Luke denied her coffee and her and Jess were happy and both conscious, Rory had a decision to make.

Harvard or Yale.

It was April of her senior year at Chilton and she had received all of her acceptance letters.  And were there a lot of them.  But only the ones postmarked from New Haven and Boston mattered.  It was always between those two, even when Rory hadn't realized it.  Her dream had always been Harvard but somewhere in the back of her mind, Yale had been floating around.  

It was often that at night, when she wasn't off making out with Jess or reading with him, that Rory would sit at the kitchen table with packets of information about both colleges spread out in front of her.  A notebook with pages full of pro and con lists would be sitting in the middle.  

Rory would be reading and Lorelai would come bounding in and sit down at the table.  She wouldn't say anything but grab a packet herself.  She would pretend to read.  In reality though, she would actually be staring at Rory with a sad look in her eyes.  Then Rory would look up and Lorelai would crack some joke about how poor Rory had to make a decision between two Ivy League schools while others had to choose between what fast food place they wanted to work at.  "I wouldn't want to be you!"  Lorelai would tease.

It was times like that that made Rory realize that Yale was the place for her.  Yale was as good as Harvard and closer to home.  Those were the first reasons on most of her "Pro Yale" lists.  She wasn't ready to leave Stars Hollow yet.  Yale would slowly wean her off the small town and her mother.  

But as it turns out, it was Jess who made her choose Yale.

She had been thinking about Yale.  Teetering on the brink of choosing it.  It wasn't until after she lost her virginity that she actually fell over the edge.  She supposed doing a "grownup" thing had led her to make a "grownup" decision.  

She had been lying in bed with Jess thinking he was asleep.  Her head was resting on his chest and she could hear his heart beat.  His arm was wrapped around her and she was tracing lines on it.   Right now, everything felt…perfect.

"Are you drawing a picture on my arm?"  He asked.

She jumped at the sound of his voice.  Thinking he had been asleep and with the silence in the room, she hadn't expected to hear any noise.  "It's a pony," she said.

"Oh, boy."

She laughed and snuggled closer in to him, if that was possible.  "I've been thinking…"  She began.

"About?"

"The future."

"Oh, God.  How far into the future?"  

She was tempted to say marriage to freak him out but she decided against it.  "College."

"Oh."  She felt him shift underneath her.  They hadn't really discussed what was going to happen but she knew he didn't want her to go to Harvard.  He would never say that to her face, wouldn't want to ruin her dream.  But he would miss her and let's face it:  long distance relationships, even only a state away, almost never worked out.

"I'm going to go Yale."  She liked the way that sounded.  Yale.  She was going to Yale.  Hi, I'm a student at Yale.  She smiled.

"Really?"  He unsuccessfully tried to sound unexcited.  "And you made this decision yourself?"

"All by myself.  No parent, grandparent, or…guy influenced my decision."  That was a lie.  

"Good to know."  He leaned down and kissed the top of her head.  "So you'll be staying in Stars Hollow?"  He tried to make it a statement but it came out as a question.  

"At least until college is over."

"Let's not think that far into the future."

"Okay.  Let's think about today.  Right now to be more specific."  She turned and propped herself up on one arm.  She leaned over close to his face.  "I love you."

He smiled.  She loved his smile; he so rarely did it.  "I love you too."  He paused.  "You know, I was thinking about going to Harvard."

Rory fell back down on the bed, giggling.  

"Oh, that hurts.  Not taking me seriously," Jess said.  "I could get into Harvard."

Rory continued to laugh until Jess shut her up with his lips.

-*-

The problem is, once everything is perfect there is nowhere to go but down.  And down it went about a week later.  

It was a simple misunderstanding.  A wrong place, wrong time kind of thing.  And this small thing led to a huge fight.  

Okay, let's start at the beginning.

Rory was supposed to meet Jess at the gazebo.  They weren't supposed to meet for another fifteen minutes but she was hoping that maybe Jess would get there early too.  She had a book with her just in case.  

There was a problem though.  There was already someone in the gazebo.  A rather large someone by the name of Dean.  She walked up the stairs.  "Hi, Dean."

He looked up.  "Hey, Rory."  He looked a bit upset.

"Are you okay?"  She asked sitting down next to him.

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"That was really unconvincing."

"Hold on, let me give it another try."  He cleared his throat.  "I'm fine."

Rory stared at him.  "What's the matter?"  

"Okay, still didn't buy it.  It's really no big thing."  He paused.  "Lindsay broke up with me."

Rory should have left right there.  She should have said "I'm sorry Dean but there are other fish in the sea."  Yeah, it was lame but in the long run it would have saved people from a lot of heartache.  

But no.  

She was too damn nice and had to sit down and talk to him.  And then of course she had to give him a hug.  A pity conversation wasn't complete without one of those.  They slowly pulled away from each other and their faces were only inches apart.  

A couple of weeks before, Rory had had a dream about Dean.  It had been short and all she could remember when she woke up was that they had been kissing.  The dream had stirred up old feelings in her and she had no idea what they meant.  She was afraid that she still might have feelings for him.  But now right here, Dean was in front of her looking at her lips and she was feeling nothing.  Her mind was on someone else.

She started pulling farther away from Dean when she saw him.  What a nice ironic twist.  Something Rory had been wishing for only minutes earlier had now become something that made her heart drop.

Jess was early.  

Rory jumped away from Dean and ran down the steps.  Jess had already turned around and had begun walking away.

"Wait, Jess!"  She called out as she fell in step beside him.  "Jess, come on!  It's not what you think!"

"Oh, it's not?"  He asked.

"Please, let me explain."

"No need to.  I got it."

"Jess, come on.  Would you stop walking?"  She ran in front of him and put her arms out in front on her.  He walked into her hands and then stopped.  "Jess."

"What?"

"It's not what you think.  Me and Dean… He was just upset and…"

"And you climbed into his lap," Jess interrupted.

"What?  No.  No, that is not it.  It was just a hug."

"Your faces looked pretty close."  Jess pushed past Rory and continued walking.

Rory turned.  "Would you stay still?"  She ran after him once again and stopped in front of him.  "Okay, I need to you stop moving and listen to me.  Nothing happened.  It was just a stupid pity hug."

"What I saw was not just a hug."

"Yes, it was!  Why are you acting like this?"

"Because my girlfriend was just getting very friendly with her ex.  It's just that…"  

"What?"

"What's to stop you from kissing Dean?"

It was like a knife to the heart.  What kind of question that?  "What's stopping me?  You!  You, my boyfriend!  How could you ask me that?"

"You cheated on him with me."

"Yeah, because I liked you and now I'm with you!"

"How do I know you won't leave me for Dean?  You did it to him."

Rory was starting to really angry.  How could he think she would do that to him?  "First, Dean broke up with me.  Second, you're supposed to trust me.  We're supposed to love and trust each other!"

"Rory, I…"

"Wait.  How do I know you won't cheat on me?"

"What?"

"I mean, you're the hoodlum here.  The town rebel.  Aren't you supposed to play girls?"

"Unfair!  You're supposed to…"  He stopped.

"Trust you?"

Jess was silent.  

"I never cheated on you with Dean.  I would never do that to you.  But, whatever.  I'll see you later, Jess."  And suddenly she was the one walking away from him.

Those were her last words to him.  The last time she saw him conscious.  What a great moment they shared.  Saying I love you probably would have been better.

That night she sat on the couch staring at the phone and attempting to use her non-existent telepathic ability to make Jess call.  

He didn't.  

Several times she turned the phone on and then just as quickly, off.  Then she would dial the number before hanging up.  This went on for a couple of hours with each time her getting farther in the call.  She eventually let it ring once before giving up for good.

One of her biggest regrets in life was not making that phone call.  Would talking to him have made any difference?  Or would he have cut school to go to Hartford and have gotten hit anyway?  Maybe this was all predestined to happen as a punishment for some wrong doing in another life.  Or maybe fate was just really screwed up and put Jess in the wrong place at the wrong time.  She would never know.

-*-

Rory was outside when the phone call came.

It was the day after the fight and the bus had dropped her off about ten minutes ago.  She was sitting on the bench with the book On the Road in her lap.  Usually, she would be on her way to Luke's but Jess was there.  She wasn't sure what she was going to say to him when she saw him so instead, she decided to read and clear her mind.

But that plan wasn't working so well.  Her mind kept wandering back to him and she couldn't concentrate on the words.  After reading a paragraph, she found that she didn't remember anything.  She had been on the same page for the entire ten minutes.

A great distraction then came in the form of her ringing cell phone.

"Hello," Rory said answering her phone.

"Hey, hun."

"Hi, Mom."

"How was school today?  Are you drowning in homework?"

There was something wrong.  Rory could hear it in her voice.  A trace of urgency.

"Mom, what's wrong?"

"I'm at the hospital."

Rory tensed at the word.  It brought memories of her grandfather lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by machines.  For some reason, she could never associate the healing and happiness of birth with the word.  To her, it was a synonym for pain and sadness.

"Why are you at the hospital?"  Rory asked trying unsuccessfully to hide her panic.

"I'm here with Luke.  We're both fine.  Jess…"

A sharp pain went through Rory at his name.  "Jess?"  

"He had an accident."

All of her breath left her body.  

"Ror, are you still there?"  

"What happened?"  She asked in a small voice.

"I don't know all the details."

"What do you know?"

"There was a car…"  Lorelai began.

"He was in a car accident?"

"He was hit by a car."

An image of a bruised and broken Jess lying in a road flashed through Rory's mind.  She took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

"How bad is it?"

"He's in surgery right now."

"That doesn't answer the question."

"It's bad," Lorelai said in a quiet voice.

"I'm coming down."

"Sweetie, I don't think that's a good idea."

"I'm coming down," Rory repeated.

There was silence.  Then, "Okay.  Maybe you should."  She paused.  "I have the jeep."

"I'll take the bus."  Rory hung up without saying goodbye.  

Her stomach began to knot and a wave of nausea swept over her.  The last thing she had eaten was the mysterious looking lunch meat from the Chilton Cafeteria.  It had tasted terrible going down and would taste a hundred times worse coming back up.

She began to feel anxious and started wishing for a car.  Any car.  She wanted to go to the hospital now.  When was the next bus?  Mentally going through the bus schedule and then checking her watch, she found that she had about forty-five minutes to wait.  Forty-five minutes of thinking of Jess, the last time she had talked to him, and how sorry she felt. 

A distraction is what she needed.  Looking down, she found that her book was still on her lap.  Reading.  Of course.  It would get her mind off of…  

Alright, don't think his name.  She opened the book and started flipping through the pages.  On the Road was one of her favorite books even though in the beginning she had disliked it.  She stopped on a random page and her eyes landed on the reason this was book was dear to her.  It was his handwriting squeezed up in the right margin.

_I love you, Rory_. 

This was the book Jess had used to tell her how he felt.  After she had seen it, he had said the words out loud.  Rory didn't even question saying it back.  She knew how she felt.  And usually reading those words made her feel so incredibly happy but today they instead brought another wave of nausea.  

Quickly, she turned to another page and tried to read.  But the words seemed foreign to her.  Last time she checked, this book was in English.  Her efforts to concentrate proved to be futile and for the first time ever, she couldn't read.

She shut the book in frustration and had an urge to throw it but instead put it in her backpack.  There was enough time to go home and change but somehow she doubted that she could make it all the way there.  Staying here was easier. 

Slowly, the time ticked by.  She stared into space. 

-*-

Ever get that dizzy feeling when you stand up too fast or go someplace crowded and overwhelming?  That's how Rory felt sitting in the hospital room.  Her head felt light and she thought that perhaps she was no longer in her body.  Can you have an out of body experience while awake?  Maybe she was having one of those.

She may have been floating around but at the same time she was trapped in a cheesy soap opera cliché.  Sitting there next to Jess with her hand on his, she half expected her mother to come rushing to announce that she was having an affair with Taylor and that Rory was actually adopted.  It would fit in perfectly with how surreal this all felt.

It hurt to see him like this.  He looked weak and helpless, two characteristics never used before to describe him.  Cuts and bruises covered his once flawless face.  Those would eventually fade with time.

The next twenty-four hours were crucial.  The doctor had said that there was little chance of Jess waking up and that he probably wouldn't survive the night.  Although, how often did Jess listen to authority?

Rory remembered once seeing a special on The Learning Channel about comas.  She hadn't paid much attention because she had been reading at the time.  It had never occurred to her that she would ever have to deal with a comatose person.  She did remember though that talking to the person was supposed to be helpful.  

Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth but she still needed to say it.  It would make her feel better, at least a little bit, and who knows?  Maybe he could hear her.

She took a deep breath.  "I'm sorry.  I am so, so sorry.  For everything.  I know you wouldn't cheat on me, I was just angry that you thought I would do that to you.  How could you think I would…"  She stopped.  Don't get angry, she ordered herself.

Oh, what did it matter what she said.  He could hear her?  What a joke.  She shifted uncomfortably in her chair and let go of his hand.  She left his room and ran into her mother.  

"How you holding up, sweetie?"  Lorelai asked, putting her hand on Rory's shoulder.

"I'm fine.  Never been better," Rory replied.

"No you're not."

"You're right, I'm not.  I'm hungry.  I'm going to go get something to eat."

"Hun, come sit down and talk to me."

"After, I get some food."  Rory turned around and walked down the hall.  She went around the corner and walked over to the snack machine.  Standing in front of it, she realized she didn't have any money.  It didn't matter.  Her appetite had long since disappeared; she just needed to be alone.

Her eyes landed on the chair next to the machine.  Sitting down, she put her hands in her face.  Then the tears came.

-*-

A month had passed and things were mostly normal if Rory's daily hospital visits and inability to read weren't counted.  And then there was the town.  It felt strange walking around Stars Hollow now.  The town looked at her as if any second she would break down and cry.  She hated the pity.  But the thing she hated most was how no one ever talked about what had happened.  It was like Jess had never existed.  Alright, so things weren't so normal.

"Mom?"  Rory called out coming out of her room.

"Living room!"  Lorelai shouted.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm watching Jeopardy."

"Why?"

"Because it makes me feel smart."

"How exactly?"  Rory asked sitting down.  She turned toward the television.  "The contestants are ten years old."

"Now you're catching on."

"Can I talk to you for a second?"

Lorelai muted the television and turned toward her daughter.  "What did you want to talk about?"

"College."

"Oh, the million dollar question.  Harvard or Yale."

"Yeah.  I think… I've decided on Harvard."

"Oh, well of course.  It is your dream school."  Lorelai was happy for her daughter but at the same time she felt a pang of sadness.  Next year, Rory would be living in another state.  "And Boston is a great city.  Oh, you know what's in Boston?"

"Paul Revere's house?"

"Well, yeah that.  But here, let me give you a hint:  Everybody will know you're name there."

"I did not base my decision on the fact that Cheers is located in Boston."

"Well, of course not.  You based it on the fact the Harvard is an excellent school and you'll get a wonderful education there.  Cheers is just a fun bonus."

Rory rolled her eyes.  She was going to miss her mom.  But staying in Stars Hollow was not an option.  Everywhere she went she was reminded of Jess.  

She would be happy at Harvard.  And her education there would be as good as the one she would have gotten at Yale, her original choice.  No one needed to know that she had actually wanted to go there.  Only Jess knew and it wasn't like he was going to tell anyone.


	3. The Voice On The Other End

**Disclaimer**:  I still don't own Gilmore Girls.  (The lyrics are from "Moving On" by Toya which I don't own.)****

**Chapter Three**:  The Voice On The Other End

_God knows it's time for me to move on  
I want to feel alive again  
I want to be in love again  
And no matter how hard I try   
I can't erase you from my mind  
And I gotta find somebody new_

"You know what would be really great right now?"  Rory asked.

"The TV remote?  Because I'd love to change the channel," Sam said without looking away from the screen.

"Why don't you get up and change it?"

"Because that would involve energy.  Something I don't have."

"Poor you."  She paused.  "I wasn't talking about the remote though.  I would absolutely love some coffee right now."

"How interesting."

Rory lifted her head off his lap and looked up at her boyfriend.  "I would just looove some coffee."

"Again, very interesting."

"But we all know how horrible my coffee comes out whenever I try to make it."

"Well, practice makes perfect."

"Oh, please make me some.  You make yours so very well."  Rory sat up.  "Don't make me beg."

"I always make it.  You do it."

"I'm prepared to bring out the pouty face."

"And I'm prepared to close my eyes."

"You are so very mean."  She stood up and began to walk into the kitchen.  "You know, after I make it I am not getting you a cup.  Nope none for you.  If you want one, you'll have to get it yourself."

"Fine, fine," Sam said still staring at the screen.

Rory's stomach knotted up as she walked into the kitchen.  She needed to not take this personally.  He not making her coffee was not a symbol of a failing relationship.  It was only that he was tired from work.  But it was still strange because he had never refused to make it for her before, even when he had had a raging fever.  His overall oddness tonight combined with his recent behavior was enough to leave a bad taste in her mouth.

For the past two weeks, Sam had been Mr. Jumpy who continuously made suspicious phone calls.  Although, he had never given the "I'm working late" line, which was the number one sign a man had found a younger and skinnier playmate, the phone calls were sign number two.  Recently, whenever she walked in on his conversation he would either hang up immediately, or if he was on the portable, he would scamper out of the room.  He wasn't the most agile and the sight of him running away awkwardly would have been hilarious if it hadn't made Rory's stomach do flips.

She didn't think she could take losing him.  It had taken her a year and a half to fall in love with him.  They were friends first, study buddies in college, and after they had begun dating, it had taken him only two months to say those three little words.  She had said it back immediately, the words had slipped out.  And once they were out there she wasn't going to take them back.  But she had finally fallen in love with him.  Head over heels, whatever that meant, and she was happy.

And she thought about Jess less too.  She had trained her mind to block him out.  Although, sometimes a little thing would remind her of him but it wasn't so bad anymore.  After five years, the pain that had once felt everlasting now was only background noise to her.  Once in a while though, it would be really serious and she would cry to herself alone, regretting and wishing.  But that was happening less and less.

She doubted she would ever love Sam as much as she did Jess.  After all, in the word of _Friends, Jess was her lobster.  Her one and only, and it had taken a coma for her to see that.  _

Shaking her head as if they would rid her of her thoughts, she began the task of making coffee.  She pulled the Bag O' Coffee, as she liked to call it, out of the cabinet.  Opening it up, she discovered something sitting on top of the coffee ground.  It didn't appear to be moving or to be something alive.  Bravely, she reached her hand in and pulled the inanimate object out.  It was a tiny velvet box.  Was it just her or did that look like…

When she popped open the box, everything fell into place.  The weird behavior and the secret phone calls, they all made sense.  "Oh my god," Rory whispered.  She pulled the ring out of the box and held it up to eye level.  She turned around at the sound of his voice.

"I wouldn't let you make coffee unless I had a really good reason," He said.

"What is this?"

"It's a platinum hand engraved vintage antique ring."  He paused.  "Yeah, I think I got that right."  He walked to her and bent down on one knee.  

"Oh my god," Rory said again.

He took her hand in his.  "Alright I want to do this right.  I want this to be really special and very cheesy.  Like a scene in a movie.  But let's face it, I completely suck at romance."

"Yeah, you do," Rory said laughing.

"Thanks for agreeing."

"But it's so cute when you try."

"Rory, I love you.  I want to spend the rest of my life with you.  I love waking up every morning and seeing you next to me.  And then having you push me out of bed demanding coffee.  Ror, will you marry me?"

Marriage?  Talk about the last thing she expected.  For god sakes, she thought he had been cheating on her.  And getting married would be so final.  It would mean that she would have to forget about Jess.  Stop thinking about him and hoping that maybe one day he would wake up.  It would mean giving up on him.  

But it was time.  She needed to stop hoping and wishing for something that wasn't ever going to happen.  It was time to officially move on.  She would be happy with Sam; she already was.

"How long did you practice that in the mirror?"  She asked.

"Right, make fun of the guy who's proposing."  He paused.  "Ten times."

She smiled at him.  "Well, since you put so much effort into it.  Yes."

"Did you just say yes?"

"I believe I did."

Sam jumped up and kissed her.  He then picked her up.

"Whoa, crazy person.  I'm no longer touching the floor," Rory said.

"Good observation.  You know, you're very light."

"Why thank you.  You know exactly what to say to a girl."

"And you're very beautiful."  He began to walk to the bedroom.

"Oh, is it compliment Rory time?  Because I love that."

"Yes it is.  Let's see.  You're a great writer."

"Thank you."

Sam entered their bedroom and dropped her on the bed.  "And you don't ramble as much as you used to."  

"Oh, thanks so much," she said sarcastically.  She pulled him down on top of her and kissed him.  "You know, I only said yes because of the ring.  It's beautiful."

"Well, that hurts."  He paused.  "That was a joke, right?"

She kissed him again.  "Of course.  The ring is just a nice bonus."  She lifted her arm in the air and put her ring on behind Sam's head.  "It fits perfectly."  That was good sign.

"I measured your finger while you were sleeping.  But the jeweler ordered it in the wrong size…three times.  And then he ordered it in the right size but it was the wrong ring.  I spent hours on the phone with that guy."

"Well, at least those odd phone calls are explained."  She put her hand on his cheek.  "I love you."  As she stared into his brown eyes, she found herself once again wishing they were a different color.  They were a lighter shade than Jess's but unfortunately it was one of the little things that reminded her of him.

But she wasn't going to think like that anymore.  She was engaged.  A bride to be who was currently feeling guilty because of her unresolved feelings towards Jess and her sudden determination to forget about him.  As she kissed Sam again, she tried her best to block the guilt and the image of eyes darker than his.

-*-

The next morning, Rory was lying awake in bed.  It was six-thirty and usually a gallon of coffee was needed to wake her up.  Then a crowbar had to be used to wedge her out of bed.  But this morning was different.  She had been awake since four AM and at this point had memorized the look of her ceiling.  She almost never had a good night's sleep but usually it took her forever to drift off to dreamland and then she would never be able to get up.  But last night had been the opposite.  Damn the Sandman.  Wait, did the Sandman make you fall asleep or did he give you dreams once you were asleep?  Great, she had now confused herself.  

Very quietly as to not wake Sam up, although he would probably sleep through an atomic bomb, Rory slipped out of bed.  She grabbed a bathrobe on her way out the room.  It was weird to feel so wide awake, yet have no coffee in her system.  Last night, she had never gotten that coveted cup.  This was because after her acceptance to his proposal they had spent the rest of the night in the bedroom.  

Sitting down on the couch, she looked down at her engagement ring.  Her feeling of guilt had lessened and she felt happier and even excited at the thought of getting married.  She was going to be a bride.  Wait until she told her mother.  Her mother!  She had to call her and tell her the wonderful news. 

Technically, she was breaking a Gilmore rule by calling this early but she had to get in the shower soon and wouldn't have time after that.  And of course, she didn't want to wait.  

Ring.  Ring.  Ring.  Ring.  Ring.  Rory sighed impatiently.  If she didn't answer soon the machine was going to pick up.  

"Hello?"

Rory froze at the sound of the voice.  It wasn't her mother.  She pulled the phone from her ear and stared at it dumbly.  The voice once again said hello but she could barely hear it.  She turned off the phone and placed it on the couch next to her before putting her face in her hands.  That voice.  It was only one word but it had only taken that much for her to recognize _his_ voice.  Except for in her head, she hadn't heard it in five years.  

Right after his accident, she had seen him all around town and constantly thought she heard his voice.  It was one of the reasons she was so desperate to leave Stars Hollow.  Once she had gotten to college, the sightings had lessened and after a couple of months had completely stopped.  She didn't understand why it would suddenly start up again.  Jess was in Hartford lying in a hospital bed, not at her house answering the phone.  

For a few minutes, Rory stared straight ahead not thinking at all.  Then she stood up and took a few deep breaths as she stared at the phone.  She then picked it up and began to walk around the room.  Once again, she dialed the number.

Ring.  Ring.  Ring.  Ring.  Ring.  She would not hear his voice.  She would not.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Mom?"  She felt a wave of relief wash over her.

"Rory!  Hey, it's early.  How are you?  How's work?  How's Sam?"  Lorelai asked at warp speed.

"Well, I'm fine.  Work is great.  And Sam is even better."

"Even better, huh?  And what does that mean?"

Rory was ready to burst out with the news but first she needed to find out if she was hallucinating or if there really was a guy there.  "Is Luke there?"

"Luke?  Why, did you want to speak to the coffee man?"

"No.  Just wondering if you two were having one your 'sleepovers'."

"I don't like how you said the word sleepover.  What are you getting at?"

"I'm not getting at anything," Rory said slyly.  "So is he there?"

"Nope, he isn't."

"Is there…a guy…there?"

"Are you implying that I am having a secret affair with another diner man?  I'm offended.  How could you think that?"

Rory laughed.  "No, I'm not implying anything.  It's just that I called a few minutes ago."

"That was you?  I thought it was one of those annoying prank callers who want to ask what you're wearing but chickened out and hung up."

"It's not even seven yet.  I doubt any teenage perverts are making pranks calls at this time.  So that was me.  And a guy picked up the phone.  Not you, right?  I'm not losing my mind?"

Lorelai was silent.

"Oh, so I am losing my mind?  Well, I want you to commit me and then I want to be dragged off kicking and screaming.  It will be very dramatic."  

Lorelai still said nothing.

"Mom?  I was joking.  You were so talkative a second ago, which really is unusual at this time of the morning."

"Yeah, well I was brought coffee early this morning," Lorelai explained.

"Oh, so there is a guy there.  Do tell."

Lorelai sighed.  "Now sweetie, I want you to listen to everything I have to say, okay?  No interruptions."

"What are you talking about?  I just want to know who's there."  Rory began to feel nervous.  What was her mother going on about?

"And while you're allowed to be angry, please don't yell at me.  I'm very fragile."

"You're not very fragile.  You're one of the strongest people I know.  Now, what are you talking about?"

"No interruptions?"  Lorelai asked.

"Fine.  Now, talk."

"Jess is awake."

All it took was those three little words.  Something Rory had been waiting to hear for so long.  She often imagined what it would be like to find out he was awake.  She had thought about how she would react.  At that moment, she couldn't remember any of those scenarios.  

Suddenly, she didn't think she could stand anymore.  She leaned backwards and let herself fall, expecting to land on the couch.  Unfortunately, she was no longer in front of it.  A large jolt ran up her spine as she hit the floor.  She ignored the pain and concentrated on not dropping the phone in her hand.  The noise her fall had made had probably woken up the entire building but lucky for her Sam was a sound sleeper.  

"He's awake?"  Rory managed to ask.  

"Yeah."

Rory brought her hand to her head.  She felt confused.  If he was awake, why hadn't Lorelai called her?  "And he's bringing you coffee?"  That wasn't the question she had meant to ask.  She wanted to know how he was and how long he had been awake.  And if he had been asking for her.  The coffee question had slipped out.

"Yeah."  She paused. "It's time for the no interruptions part, okay?"

Rory nodded before she remembered that Lorelai couldn't see her.  "Okay."

"He's been awake for awhile."

"Awhile?  How longs awhile?"

"Someone can't follow directions."

"How long?"  Rory asked again beginning to feel a tad angry.

"A little more than eight months."

Rory probably would have fallen down again if she hadn't already been sitting on the ground.  "What?"  She nearly yelled.

"Okay now you let me explain."

"Explain?  He's been awake for eight months and you don't call me?  What's going on?"

"Listen, Ror," Lorelai began in a calming voice.  "When he first woke up, we weren't even sure he was going to make it.  I didn't want to call you and tell you the great news only to have him die on you."

Rory remained silent.  She wasn't supposed to interrupt and anyway, she was at a loss for words.

"It was a miracle that he even woke up after being unconscious for so long.  He had to go through recovery too.  It was long and painful.  It was hard to watch him go through that."

"So what you were protecting me?"

"Yes.  I guess I was trying to."

"I'm twenty-two.  I don't need protecting."

"What if I was to tell you that for the longest time if I was to mention the name Rory to him he would have no idea who I was talking about?"  Lorelai asked.

"What?"

"One of the most common side affects, oh listen to me sounding like a professional doctor."

"Mom, go on."

"Sorry.  Memory loss is one of the most common side affects.  We were very lucky that he didn't have actual brain damage."

"He couldn't remember anything?"

"Not until recently.  Most of it's back except for a few holes here and there.  They actually have a name for that too.  Swiss Cheese Memory."

"This isn't funny."

"I'm being completely serious, that's what the doctor said."

"I didn't mean that.  You're making this into a joke.  I can't believe you didn't tell me he was awake," Rory said feeling anger rise inside of her.  Jess was awake.  Had been awake for several months.  Looking down at her engagement ring, she felt a part of her begin to regret her acceptance.  Unbelievable.  Barely twelve hours after she says yes and she's already regretting it.

"Sweetie, it's not like I was planning on never telling you.  That's not it at all.  I just wanted…"

"So he's awake and he's fine?"  Rory interrupted.

"Yes."

"That's all I need to know.  I have to go get ready for work."  She hung up without waiting for a goodbye.  She hated being angry at her mom and she felt slightly bad for hanging up on her.  But she hadn't told her about Jess.  The reasons she gave her had made sense though.  Seeing Jess with him not knowing who she was would have been hard.  But still…

If only she had called Lorelai sooner.  If only Sam had waited a couple of more days to propose.  If only Jess hadn't.  Her thought stopped there.  Hadn't what?  Hadn't woken up or hadn't lived?  It was true that his death would simplify things.  It would most likely give her the closure she so desperately needed.  But to actually want that to happen?  Rory felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over her.  She hated having those horrible thoughts. 

"Morning, babe."

Rory turned at the sound of Sam's voice.  He was in the doorway of the living room standing in his boxers.  On any other day she would be rushing over to him but today was different.  There was a mix of sadness, guilt, anger, and happiness swirling inside of her.  It was too much.  She was so sick of emotions.  "Morning," she muttered before getting up to head to the bathroom.

"Are you okay?"  He asked concerned.

She stopped in front of him.  "Yeah, I'm fine."

He leaned down to kiss her.  She turned her head slightly so his lips would land on her cheek.

"Are you getting in the shower?" 

"Yeah."  She brushed past him and walked off to the bathroom.  She stopped in the doorway and looked at him.  "I'm going to Stars Hollow tonight after work."

A surprised look appeared on his face.  But before he could respond Rory had entered the bathroom and shut the door.

**A/N**:  Alright, before y'all yell at about how Lorelai would never keep that from her, let me explain.  I don't like defending my writing but even I was like, okay, very odd.  I wrote it this way because I wanted Jess awake and fully functional.  Recovery from a coma, especially one that was so long, takes a long time.  It's also a sad and painful process.  I didn't want to have to write that and again I wanted a healthy Jess.  Also, I didn't want him waking up fresh as a daisy because that does not happen.  Oh, and Swiss Cheese Memory is actually a term I found on memory loss website.  Go figure.


	4. The Awkwardness Of It All

**Disclaimer**:  I still don't own Gilmore Girls.  But I'm working on it.  I do have a plan titled "My Big Evil Plan to Steal Gilmore Girls and then Conquer the World".  Just give me time.  (And yes that italicized part in the middle of the chapter is a flashback.)

**Chapter Four**:  The Awkwardness Of It All

_I'm lost in a memory of you_

_And I keep trying to tell myself_

_That things have changed_

_That you're not the same_

_But what I wouldn't give_

_For one more yesterday_

Rory saw him from across the room.  He didn't see her at first but she was glad that he didn't.  This way she could stare at him without him noticing.  See if he looked any different.

She could only see the left side of his face.  It looked the same.  How much could a cheek change, anyhow?  She began to move farther down the wall hoping to catch more of him.  He turned then and spotted her.  Did anyone else feel that electricity in the air?  It was probably just her.

And then it was like a force drawing her forward.  He was getting closer and closer to her yet she could tell he wasn't moving.  She didn't even recall making her feet walk forward.  Perhaps, she was floating.

She was only a couple of feet from him when he suddenly walked forward and closed the distance between them.  And he didn't stop in front of her.  He kept moving until his lips were on hers.

Rory shook her head and brought it down on the seat in front of her.  She let it rest there while she mentally slapped herself for envisioning that.  There was no way in hell that was going to happen.  Besides, she had a fiancée.

Another mental slap.  That thought came out wrong.  She should have considered her fiancée first.  He should not be an afterthought.  For the entire bus ride she had done nothing but dwell on scenarios of seeing Jess again.  Almost none of them were even remotely realistic.  She needed to think about something else.  How about her fiancée?  The man that kept slipping her mind.

It was Wednesday night and she had been a bride to be for a full twenty-four hours.  Sitting in the compartment above her was her overnight bag stuffed with enough clothes for a few days.  She had no idea how long she would stay.  For all she knew, she could be back on a bus in a few hours.  Of course she wanted to spend time with her mother.  Angry or not.  But if things were too weird with Jess…

She had already told her boss that she was taking the next two days off from work but was expected back on Monday.  So technically Sunday was her limit.

The heat on the bus started to become unbearable.  Weren't May nights supposed to be cooler than this?  Rory leaned her head down on the window and the coolness of the surface felt like heaven against her forehead.  She closed her eyes and began to concentrate on non-Jess thoughts when the bus hit a bump.  Her head flew upward before landing back hard on the window.  She immediately pulled her head away and began to rub the spot where she hit it.  She could feel a headache beginning to form and sighed.  So far, things were not going well.

The bus slowed and Rory thought about staying right where she was.  When it came to a complete stop, a feeling of nervousness swept through her.  She began to feel jittery and her legs started shaking.  As she stood up, her jelly legs nearly buckled.  She reached upward to grab her bag and as she began to walk away, her eyes darted back longingly to her seat.  She felt like being anywhere but here.

Off the bus she went with her bag in hand.  She was glad that it was night.  The darkness was her cover and hopefully no one would notice she was here.  She wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone right now.  

She passed Luke's with only a sideway glanced.  It looked almost deserted.  It was almost closing time and the only sign that it was open were the lights.  She hadn't had coffee since that morning but now fought the urge for some.  She had a destination in mind and nothing was going to distract her.

Or so she thought.

It wasn't until her feet hit the wood that she noticed where she was.  Her mind had wandered and she had stopped paying attention.  Her feet had brought her here out of old habit.  Her mind-set on going home was momentarily sidetracked, as she walked to the middle of the bridge.  She sat down allowing her feet to dangle above the water.

At the same time, she both hated and loved this place.  It reminded her of Jess and everything they had shared.  But shouldn't that not bother her now?  She would be seeing him soon.  Her feelings about that confused the hell out of her.  Excited and happy, nervous and scared.  And then there was that bit of guilt floating around.  If it wasn't about Jess then it was about Sam.  It was always there.

It was dark outside, but her eyesight slowly adjusted.  Everywhere she looked, she saw a memory.  Suddenly, her mind began to wander…  

_There were footsteps behind her.  She turned her head slightly and out of the corner of her eye she saw Jess._

_"Hey, Ror," He said as he lowered himself next to her._

_She turned to face him fully to say hello but stopped when she saw he had his hands behind his back.  "What do you have?"_

_"Me?  I have nothing."_

_"You're not supposed to lie to your girlfriend.  It makes her mad."_

_"I may have something."_

_"Oh, is it for me?"  She asked excitedly._

_"Not everything revolves around you."_

_"But it's for me right?"_

_He rolled his eyes before nodding his head.  _

_"What's the occasion?" _

_"Just because," he answered._

_"Just because?  You never do a 'just because' gift."_

_"Well, if I did a just because all the time it wouldn't be just because anymore.  It would be because the girlfriend expects it."_

_"Good point.  Now hand it over."  She began to pull on his arms._

_From behind his back appeared a book.  He handed it over to her._

_"You put a bow on it?"  She took the bow and stuck it on her head._

_"Very cute," he said with his usual smirk._

_"On the Road?"  She asked surprised._

_"You don't like it?"_

_"Well, it's not that.  It's just that you know I'm not a big fan of this book."_

_"That's why I got it for you."_

_"You wanted me to not like your gift?"_

_"No, because now you won't hate it anymore," he explained._

_"How do you know?"_

_"I have a feeling."_

_"You're psychic now?"_

_"Yup.  I've been studying up on it.  Next is telekinesis."_

_She opened the book and began flipping through the pages.  Jess watched her expectantly.  There was a bookmark in the middle of the book and as she came to that page it fell out.  She reached down and picked it back up about to place it back in the book when she saw the words._

_She looked up at him and he was staring nervously back.  "What do you think?"  He asked._

_She smiled at him.  She wanted to hear him say it out loud.  And as if he had read her mind he spoke.  "I love you, Rory."_

_Her smile grew wider.  She loved how the words rushed up out her.  "I love you too."_

_They both leaned forward at the same time and met in the middle.  _

Her mind snapped out of her little memory just as they kissed.  Sighing, she ran her hands threw her hair.  She had to make herself understand that it wasn't going to be like that when she saw him.  No "I love you's" and no kissing.  Things were different.

She began to stand up.  Her hands were on the bridge pushing her upward when her eyes landed on her engagement ring.  When she was fully standing, she took it off of her finger and twirled it in front of her eyes.  

As she stared at her ring, confusion again took over her thoughts.  It mixed with her headache making her feel like her head would explode at any second.  Her heart was telling her to take off the ring.  She didn't have to tell Jess right away.  And she would tell him.  Eventually.  No need for the rock on her finger to do the explaining for her.

But her brain was working pretty well.  Telling her that to take off the ring was a betrayal to Sam.  

As a compromise, she slipped her ring on her right hand.  But unfortunately, it was a rather extravagant ring and it screamed engagement.  It just appeared that in a moment of idiocy, she has put it on the wrong hand.  Sighing, she tried to block her guilt as she took the ring off and carefully put it in her pocket.  That way it was still near her.  And she could feel it against her leg through the fabric of her pants.  A small reminder of Sam.  All she had to do was reach down and she could touch it.  No need for the guilt.

She tried to block her thoughts, all of her thoughts, as she headed in the direction of her house.  Her confusion partly left her but nervousness reigned supreme in her stomach.  Butterflies were fluttering around at top speed and crashing into each other.  She didn't have much in her stomach but it could all come up at any second.  She was scared that Jess would be different.  Or that he would find _her_ too different.  Five years changed things even if one person had happened to be comatose for most of that time.  But change could be good.  Everybody changed eventually.  But the thing that scared her most was that maybe they were too different now.  Maybe too much time had passed.  Maybe it was too late.

-*-

"Mom?"  Rory called out as she entered her childhood home.

"Ror?"  A startled reply came from the kitchen.

Rory shut the door behind her and entered the kitchen and found Lorelai and Luke eating a late dinner at the table.

Lorelai jumped up as soon as she saw Rory and rushed over to hug her.  Rory's anger at her mother suddenly left along with her air supply as her mother threw her arms around her.

"Sweetie, I am so happy to see you!"  

"Mom, I can't breathe," Rory choked out.

Lorelai stepped backwards.  "Right, sorry.  But hey, wow!  You're here!"

"Yeah, I'm here."  She nodded.  

Luke stood up and gave her an awkward hug.  "Good to see you."

Rory gave him a nod and a mumbled hello.  She wanted to ask about Jess but was afraid to bring him up.  One, she didn't want to get mad at her mother again although most her anger was gone, and two, she wasn't sure if she was ready to see him again.

"Are you hungry?  We have cheeseburgers and veggie burgers.  A nice variety," Lorelai explained.

"No, not too hungry.  But I'm dying for a cup of coffee."

Luke went off to make more while Rory headed into her room to unpack.  And it was as she unzipped her bag that she heard the front door open.  And then came his voice.  

"Luke, I closed up the diner but I think you have my keys."  His voice floated to her ears and suddenly the butterflies in her stomach were tearing each other up along with the interior of her stomach.

She heard her mom say something to him but she couldn't make out exactly what it was.  Her ears were concentrating only on one sound.  And before she knew it, he was standing in her doorway.  Her entire body froze as did as all thought process.  She couldn't believe that here he was standing right in front of her.

"Hi," he said.  

It took her a full minute to respond.  Her brain slowly began to work again.  "Hi," she whispered.

They were both staring at each other and it felt so…weird, for lack of a better word.  It was like the awkwardness of a blind date.  When you don't know the person at all and the conversation is plagued with uncomfortable silences.  And eye contact makes you feel self-conscious so your eyes wander the room landing on everything but him.  

But this wasn't a date and he was looking at her.  He was studying her with a scrutinizing gaze and though she wouldn't admit it, she was doing the same to him.  As if a different hair style or an extra line on the face could explain the changes over time.  Perhaps the small scar on Jess's left cheek would tell her.  He looked mostly the same though, with his dark, unruly hair and the same brown eyes she used to get lost in.  

She missed staring into his eyes as cheesy as it sounds.  After all, for the past five years they had been closed.  The thought got her thinking and before she could stop herself, the words slipped out of her mouth.  "I missed you."

Fortunately or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, she spoke at the same Jess did.  His words, "You look different," meshed together with hers and neither heard what the other had said.  They then both asked "What?" at the same time.  She gestured for him to speak as she didn't think she would be able to repeat herself.

"You look different," he said again.

"Different good?"

"More grown up."

She opened her mouth to explain the obvious, that she had grown up, but her cell phone rang at that point.  She was grateful for the distraction.

"I have to get that," she explained and turned to pick up her phone.

"Of course," he nodded.

She grabbed her phone out of her purse knowing instantly who it was.  "Hello?" 

"Hi, honey," Sam replied cheerfully on the other end.

Rory turned around and was surprised to find that Jess was no longer standing in the doorway.  She walked forward and closed the door before answering Sam.  "Hey, Sam.  It's great to hear from you."  It was a truth and a lie.  She kept her voice quiet and walked over to the farthest corner of her room.

A part of her couldn't understand why she was hiding this engagement.  The other part was yelling that it was obvious.  She was still in love with Jess and was hoping for another chance.  She couldn't tell him she was engaged.  Did he even know that she had been seeing someone?  

"So how is it there?"  Sam asked.

"It's great.  Just like it was when I lived her.  But my mom wants me to watch a movie with her so I gotta go."

"Okay."  He sounded disappointed.  "I love you."

"I love you too."  Why did that sound so forced?

She hung up and walked out of her room to find her mom lying on the couch.  "Hey, hun," she said as she jumped up.

"Hi, Mom.  Did…Luke leave?"

"Yeah, he and Jess both left."

"Oh."  Disappointment killed the butterflies in her stomach.  "Okay.  I think I'm going to go to bed."

"Are you sure?  Because Luke made that coffee you wanted."

"Oh, no thanks.  You're welcome to it though."

"Technically, I'm not allowed to drink your coffee according to Luke.  But since you offered it to me."  Lorelai walked over and hugged her daughter.  "It's going to be weird at first.  But that'll change."

"Right," Rory mumbled.

They released from their hug and Rory headed back into her room.  She grabbed a pair of pajamas from her overnight bag before knocking the bag to the floor.  After taking off her jeans, she threw on her cow covered pants.  It was a gift from her mother last year and it usually made her giggle.  But tonight she was not in the mood.  Her bed had no sheets and the pillow was without a pillowcase but at that point it didn't matter.  There was a blanket and that was all she needed.

Tiredness overwhelmed her as did her headache.  As she hit the pillow, the thought of taking an aspirin seemed really good to her but she doubted she had enough energy to get up.  She closed her eyes and then instantly opened them.  Sleep, no matter how tired she was, was not going to come easily.  

So her mind drifted to Jess and their anti-climatic meeting.  It had been nothing like she had hoped for.  They were supposed to run to each other and then jump into each other's arms.  And then do the whole spinning around staring into each other's eyes bit.  Not just stare at each other awkwardly.  In retrospect though, she realized she really should not have picked up her phone.  They were talking or well, trying to talk, and answering her phone had made him leave.  Like a phone call was more important than him.  How stupid was she?

And so began a long night of chastising herself over their meeting and staring around the room.  

-*-

And it was hours later when she couldn't take it anymore.  The staring around the room at the millions of books she had.  She didn't like knowing that they were there.  It made her want to grab one and begin to read.  Unfortunately, something she still couldn't do.  It was why she had only brought a few books with her to New York.  Wishful thinking of one day reading them but that had never happened.

So it was around two AM that she jumped out of bed and threw her shoes on.  If the weather was anything like it was only hours earlier than a coat wouldn't be needed.  She quietly crept through her house and then out the front door.  She hadn't a clue where she wanted to go but it was obvious where she would end up.  It was always the same place.  And hopefully the walk would clear her mind.  Or at least make her tired enough to actually fall asleep.

As she walked through town, thoughts of Sam and Jess swam through her head.  So far the clearing her head part was not working.  Sam.  Jess.  Jess.  Sam.  Jess.  Sam.  Sess.  Jam.  Sess?  Jam?!  Oh, she was way too overtired. 

And eventually her feet brought her to the bridge as she knew they would.  She stood at the end of the bridge ready to walk forward when she saw him.  Or at least, the dim outline of him.  Who else would it be?  And while part of her was surprised to see him there, the other part wasn't.  After all, it was what she had been hoping for when she had gotten out of bed.  Maybe he was even here for the same reason she was.  Maybe he was thinking of her.

This time she was determined to work through the weirdness.  They would have a real conversation and she would find out that he was the same person who used to argue about books with her and would sneak coffee to her and her mom when Luke wasn't looking.

She began to walk towards him and the sounds of her footsteps caused him too look up.  She sat down a couple of feet away from him.  

"Hi, Jess," she said.

He turned to her.  "Hey, Ror."

Silence fell and she was determined to break it.  Although, she wasn't quite sure what she wanted to say next.  


	5. The All Important Sheep Question

**Disclaimer**:  I still don't own Gilmore Girls.  (The lyrics are from "Taking Over Me" by Evanescence.  I own the CD and nothing else.)

Thanks for all the lovely reviews!  I really appreciate them.  Keep them coming.

**Chapter Five**:  The All Important Sheep Question

_I lie awake and try so hard _

_Not to think of you  
But who can decide what they dream?  
And dream I do…_

In Rory's head, she and Jess were having a normal conversation.  One about how much they had missed each other.  And with every word spoken, they were sliding another inch closer to each other.  By the end of the conversation, they would be shoulder to shoulder, knee to knee.  His hand would be resting on hers.

But in reality, they were almost four feet from one other.  And with each second that passed, Jess seemed even farther away.  Why wasn't he saying anything?  Why wasn't she saying anything?  Why couldn't she get her mouth to move?  Why did the words keep getting stuck in her throat?  What could she say, anyway?  There were too many questions and Rory didn't have a single answer.  She didn't have any words.

It was scary at how deathly silent it was.  Usually there was some kind of noise.  A group of grasshoppers playing a private concert or some tiny animal darting through the grass.  Night was a sound in itself.  But this night was quiet.  And it was driving Rory crazy.  

To top it off, the awkwardness that had been present in her bedroom earlier had followed her here to the bridge.  It was currently seated between her and Jess and was reveling in the silence.  She wanted to squash it or push it into the water.  This is something she would have done if it was actually a tangible object instead of just a feeling.

She should have been more prepared for this meeting.  (She also should have taken an aspirin before leaving the house, but that's not the issue now, is it?)  In the hours before she had left the house, she had been lying in bed with nothing to do but think.  Why hadn't she thought about this?  Although, to be fair, she hadn't known Jess would be at the bridge.  She had just wished it with all her might.

It seemed that if something was going to be said, she would have to do it.  Technically it was her turn to speak seeing as how she had said hello and he had said it back.  Stupid rules of conversation.  At this point, it didn't really matter what she said.  All that mattered was that he responded.

"You said earlier that I looked different," she blurted out.  She couldn't even use the excuse that she hadn't thought before she had spoken because thinking was all she had been doing for the past few minutes.  She supposed that her brain had been attempting to continue the almost conversation they had begun in her bedroom.  But it had only made her sound conceited.  She hadn't seen him in five years but first she needed to know how she looked?  That was not what she meant.  At least it wasn't so quiet anymore.  The sound of her mental slap was echoing through her head.

"You do," was his response.  He paused and she expected him to repeat his earlier comment of how she looked grown up.  He didn't.  "Your hair's shorter."

"What?" she asked.  Her hand immediately went to her hair.  She ran her fingers through it and stopped at the ends which rested on her shoulders.  She was about to protest and point out that her hair had been like that for awhile.  But then she realized awhile was not five years.  During her senior year, her hair had been a couple of inches past her shoulders.  A few years ago, she had cut it and had kept it at its current length.

"I cut it," she explained.

"I can see that."

It was funny how Jess had noticed that.  Most girls have to go bald to get a guy to ask if they had done something to their hair.  But then again, Jess had a picture in his head of Rory when she was eighteen.  He was picking up on the littlest differences.

"It looks nice," he added lamely.

"Thanks."  Alright so the topic of her hair change was dying, now what?  He had complimented her on her appearance so she could do the same to him.  Then perhaps, she could make a comment on the weather.  It would fit the description of a generic conversation between two almost strangers.  

"So where do you live now?"  He asked.

"New York City.  I have a tiny apartment which costs more than a house does in Stars Hollow."  

"How might you pay for this apartment?"

And here it was.  It had come faster than she had expected and she wasn't ready for it.  It was that opening for her fiancée.  That place where she could mention Sam without seeming like she bringing it up for no reason at all.  And she hadn't made her decision about it yet.  Of course she should tell.  It was wrong not to.  Not only wrong for him but also for Sam.  

She reached down to touch her engagement ring but found that her pants had no pockets.  The realization that not only did she leave her ring in the pants she had been wearing earlier that day but they were now on the floor hit her.  The floor was not the place for a three thousand dollar ring.  But she couldn't worry about that now.  She needed to tell Jess that her fiancée worked at his father's law firm.  That he wasn't getting much money now but when he did, he was going to move them into a huge apartment.

"I write," she said suddenly.  No!  Her brain screamed.  Wrong answer!

"Write?"

"Articles…for the New York Times."

"The Times?  Really?  That's great."

She had screwed up royally.  She still had a minor chance to add in that having a fiancée who worked helped a lot too.  But she didn't.  And it killed her that she couldn't even get her lips to form Sam's name.

"It took me forever to get an interview there.  And then I got stuck as the errand girl for awhile."  This was all pointless information that she was spitting out.  She hated herself right now.

"Errand girl?  So Yale didn't get immediately get you a high paying job?"

She had a feeling that that question was just to find out what college she had gone to.  It was becoming more and more clear that he had no idea as to what she had been doing the past five years.  This also meant that he mostly likely had no clue that she had even been seeing someone.  

"I didn't go to Yale."

"You didn't?"

"I went to Harvard."

"Are you sure?"  

She nearly laughed.  "Yes, of course I'm sure.  Unless they moved Yale to Boston and changed the name…"

"I remember you telling me that you had decided on Yale."

An image of lying in his arms flashed through her mind.  She remembered that day.  She remembered the feel of his arms around her and his touch.  It brought a blush to her cheeks and a small smile to her face. 

"I changed my mind," she said simply.  Hopefully, he wouldn't ask a reason.  There was no need to get into that.

"Oh."  And that was all he said.

"What do you not remember?"  She asked suddenly.  It was something she was very curious about.  What kind of memories did he lose but she still had?  

"If I remembered what I didn't remember, then I wouldn't not remember it."

She let his words sink in.  The word Duh echoed through her mind.  What a dumb question she had asked.  She felt foolish but only said, "Good point."

"Are you going to start asking questions about random memories now?"

She didn't want to put any kind of pressure on him.  But she was curious.  Very curious.  Did he remember the early morning at the bridge right after Dean had broken up with her?  Did he remember the failed dinner at her grandparents' house and then the slightly better dinner a couple of weeks later?  Did he remember giving On the Road to her?  And even though he remembered their first time and that they had been together, did he remember the way he felt about her?  

"If you don't mind."

"I'm used to it.  A hundred people have already done it."

"Really?"

"Yup.  Every person in this town has quizzed me on their memory of them," he explained.  "Taylor wanted to know if I recalled the shoplifting I did and the pranks I pulled."

"And do you?"

"Of course.  They're my fondest memories."  

Rory smiled.  That sounded more like the old Jess.  

"I told him I didn't though," he continued.  "And now he's really nice to me.  It's kind of creepy."

Her smiled widened.  "Ready for your hundred and first person?"

"Fire away."

"Day of the accident."

"As much as I would love having the memory of being hit by a car embedded into my mind," he began in a sarcastic tone, "it's a complete blank."

"Nothing at all?"

"Nope.  But apparently I cut school and went to Hartford."

"You were punished for your delinquent ways," she said without thinking.

"Harsh punishment."  

She regretted her words as soon as she heard his response.  She didn't know what to say and was afraid that their conversation would end right there.  But it didn't.

"I remember the day before the accident," Jess said, proud to be able to provide Rory with a recent memory.  But then the actual memory of what happened that day hit him and he said nothing more.

"It seems kind of stupid now," she said in a quiet voice.

"I know you'd never cheat on me."

"You had every right to be angry…" she stopped.  "This is the conversation we were supposed to have the next day at the diner."

"We're having it now."

"Doesn't matter now," she muttered.

They both didn't say anything for a couple of minutes.  What was there to say?  Nothing seemed right.  

"Can I ask you an important question?"  Jess asked suddenly.

His voice startled her and her heart began to beat faster.  What would he ask?  Maybe he would ask if she was still in love with him.  Or if she had a boyfriend.  

"Sure."

"Are those sheep are you pants?"

To say she was completely surprised would be a huge understatement.  She would have expected a marriage proposal before hearing those words.  "Excuse me?"

"It's dark outside so I could be mistaken."

She looked down dumbly at her pants.  Then she realized that he making a joke.  He was trying to lighten the mood.  And she wanted to kiss him for it.  

"They're cows."

"Oh.  Of course."

"Are you questioning my fashion sense?"  She asked.

"No, I'm questioning your sanity." 

"I'm quite sane, thank you."

"I guess I'll have to take your word for it."

She wasn't completely sure what it was.  A combination of her overtiredness, a lack of caffeine and Jess's sheep comment, she supposed.  But she began to laugh.  

"I'm glad you find me so amusing," he commented.  

"Don't mind me.  I'm just overtired."

He stood up then.  "You should probably get some sleep before you completely lose it."

She smiled at him before she stood up.  "Very funny."

"I'll walk you home."

"I can get there myself."

"Stars Hollow is very dangerous at night."

"Name one dangerous thing."

"I used to be dangerous," he said with a smirk.  

He headed off in the direction of her house and she followed him.  She fell into step next to him and was careful to keep her hand from touching his.  "I hope I'm not out of your way."

"This town is the size of a postage stamp.  Nothing is out of anybody's way."

"You don't live with Luke anymore, right?"

"Now that I can function on my own, I have my own apartment.  Moved in not too long ago."

"Where do you live?"

"On Myers.  Apartment 3."

She noted the information and tucked it away in her mind.  For what?  She wasn't quite sure.  The rest of the walk was in silence.  And for the first time since she had seen him, it was a comfortable silence.  

When they reached her house, they both climbed the steps and stopped outside her door.  They stared at each other and the word date entered Rory's mind.  It seemed like a date, or at least the end of one.  And it kind of was.  It was the end of the blind date and standing in front of her was no longer an almost stranger.  It was the same old Jess.  He was more grown up, less rude, and just as sarcastic.  It was no longer as awkward and it felt a bit like old times.  Almost.  It seemed that a lot of things with Jess had been an almost lately.

They were standing in front of her door, staring and not speaking when the thought entered her head.  The thought of what people do at the end of dates.  She reminded herself that it was, in fact, not a date.  But she moved forward anyway.  Her brain was functioning enough so that she didn't kiss him but instead continued forward and threw her arms around him.  She wrapped them around his neck and leaned into him.  She rested her chin on his shoulder and she felt his arms encircle her lower back.

This was what she needed.  To feel his arms around her again.  She had just needed to touch him, to make sure he was real.  He wasn't some hallucination that she had cooked up to make herself feel better about falling in love with some other guy.  This was really him hugging her back.  And it felt good.  So good that she forgot to feel guilty about it.  

And they stood there like that.  She wasn't sure how long exactly but she did know that the amount of time for a normal, friendly hug had long passed when they finally pulled apart.  She felt a bit embarrassed and looked down at the porch.  She didn't see his smile.

"Goodnight, Ror."

She lifted her head and watched him walk down her porch steps.  "Goodnight, Jess."

He turned around and began to walk backwards.  He looked at her for a few seconds and gave her a small nod before turning back around.  She watched his retreating back until she couldn't seem him anymore.  She stared at the spot she had last seen him for another minute before quietly slipping into the house.

When she reached her room, the first she noticed was her jeans lying on the floor.  Sitting down next to them, she shoved her hand into the pocket.  When her hands clasped her ring, relief flooded through her.  Even though she had known it would be in there, she had still been nervous.  The last thing she wanted to do was to lose it.  The ring was a symbol of Sam.  And she had gone to the bridge and spoken with Jess without it.

Her eyes moved from the ring in her hand to her overnight bag only a foot away.  She reached for it and pulled it to her.  Her cell phone was resting at the very top.  After a minute of staring at it, she grabbed it and dialed a number.  He was a sound sleeper but she hoped that if she let it ring enough he would wake.  And she let the phone ring several times.

"Hello?"  A sleepy voice asked on the other end.

"Hi, Sam."

"Rory?"

"Yeah, it's me."

"How come you're calling so late.  Wait," he paused.  "Early?"

"I guess I just needed to hear your voice."

She could practically hear him smile.  "Aw, that was so cheesy, it was actually sweet."

"Thanks, I think."

"So did you call for any other reason than to deliver that line?"

"Nope.  I couldn't sleep so I thought, hey, I might as well wake Sam up too."

"You are so considerate."

"Of course I am.  I'm so considerate that I'm not even going to start a conversation.  I know you have work tomorrow," she said.

"A nice early meeting."

"A meeting about what?"

"I have no idea.  No one ever tells me anything."

"It'll be a surprise then."

"Yeah, surprise I'm probably supposed to have some case done.  Oh, well."  He paused.  "I love you, Ror."

"I love you too."  

"I'm sorry to say this but I'm too tired for the no you hang up first game so why don't you just hang up."

She smiled.  "You hang up first."

"Oh, and here we go."  But he was smiling too.

"Goodnight, Sam."

"Sweet dreams."

She hung up and threw her cell phone back into her bag.  She stood up and climbed back onto her bed.  As she hit the pillow, she felt the guilt climb back on her and settle on her chest.  She tried her best to ignore it.  The guilt didn't even lessen when she put her engagement ring on.  Sighing, she turned on her side and closed her eyes.  

And she fell asleep thinking of Sam.  But she would dream only of Jess and of how it used to be.  Except for a vague feeling in the back of her mind, she wouldn't recall her dream in the morning. 


	6. Ignorance is Bliss

**Disclaimer**:  Do I even need this anymore?  I don't own Gilmore Girls.  Duh.    The lyrics are from the song "Stuck" by Stacie Orrico.  I don't own that either.  (Yes, that italicized part is a flashback.  Flashbacks are fun.  Really they are.)

**A/N**:  Eek!  So very sorry for the long wait.  I had writer's block and then I began a new fic.  Please don't throw things at me.  Blame my muse.  It's all her fault.  But thanks for all the great reviews!  I really appreciate them all.  Especially Summer who is a fic reviewing goddess and deserves a shrine for her 4,419 words (!!) in that eight page review.  And to Avid because she made me a kick ass banner and gives me nice compliments.  And to Sweet because she writes a lot better than she thinks and she rocks for all the praise she showers upon me.  Heh.  Enough of long and pointless A/N's… on with the story.

**Chapter Six**:  Ignorance is Bliss

_I'm still breaking_

_I miss you even more_

_And I can't fake it_

_The way I could before_

The ringing of the bells was like music to her ears.  As the door closed behind her, she had to suppress her urge to scream, "Sanctuary!"  This was not a church and she was not the Hunchback of Notre Dame.  But really, why did every single person in Stars Hollow feel the need to walk up to her and say hello?  Did she have some target on her?  Some kind of flashing neon sign that was attracting everyone?  

She did a quick sweep of the diner and let out a relieved sigh.  Not only did she not recognize anybody currently eating their breakfast—although there were only about three people inside—she also didn't see Jess anywhere.  Coming to _Luke's_ had been a great risk.  Unfortunately, this morning when her mother had woken her up (at 7:30!), her tiredness and anger had distracted her from asking that all important question:  When does Jess work so I can avoid him like the plague?

Rory really had no idea what her mother had been thinking this morning.  Waking up a Gilmore before ten when she didn't have to get up was a big no-no.  But Lorelai had done it anyway, asking her to come to work with her so they could spend time together.  Rory had answered this with a death threat which Lorelai had found quite hilarious.  But Rory cut off her laughter by hitting her with a pillow which Lorelai immediately grabbed from her.  This led to a one-sided pillow fight which Rory tried to block by hiding beneath her blanket.

Then after more threats of violence—on Rory's part—and attempts at bribery with coffee—on Lorelai's part—an agreement was finally reached.  Rory would go back to sleep and after she had "slept off her craziness", she would come to the inn.  But unfortunately, sleep wouldn't return for her.  She had been awake for too long and had zero chance of returning to dreamland.  

After taking a shower and finding their toaster to be broken, she had ended up walking to _Luke's_.  So far the day had been one annoyance after another and coffee was the only thing that could make her feel any better.  

She walked over to the counter, about to sit down, when a figure popped up from behind it, causing her to jump backwards.

"Don't do that!"  She scolded.

He looked confused.  "Don't do what?"

"Jump up from behind the counter."

His mouth formed his trademark smirk.  "Did I scare you?"

"No.  I always expect people to randomly pop up behind counters."

"I did not randomly pop up," Jess insisted.

"You did so."

"I was down there putting away plates.  I needed to stand up.  You can't call that random."

"I can and I will," she said before taking a seat at the counter.  

He rolled his eyes and slung the rag that had been resting on the counter over his shoulders.  She watched as he grabbed a pen and the ordering pad from his pocket.  As he assumed the standard ordering position, she felt an odd pang in her chest.  Suddenly, she was very dizzy, falling back to years before.  To when he would have leaned over and kissed her before pouring her free coffee.  To when she would get lost in a conversation with him and have to run quite fast just to make the bus to Chilton.  To when looking at him didn't hurt so much.

She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, knowing now that she should never have come in here today.  The awkwardness was slowly melting away but a feeling of longing was left behind.  She preferred the weirdness.  It hurt less.

Opening her eyes, she saw him giving her a weird look.  There was a few seconds of brown eyes boring into blue, and she feared his gaze would make her confess something she would rather keep hidden.  Finally he broke eye contact by looking down at the ordering pad, and she let out a silent sigh of relief.

"What can I get you?"  He asked.

Her mind was still reeling from her recent thoughts and it took her a full minute to respond.  What had she wanted?  There was something she had been craving for when she walked in…  Ah, yes.

"I want a poptart."

"We don't have poptarts," he replied.

"But you have a working toaster."

"Explain."

She held up her pointer finger as a signal to wait one second.  Then, she reached into her purse and pulled out a poptart in a plastic bag.  

"You have to be kidding me," he said, looking at her incredulously.   

She pulled her breakfast out of the bag and handed it over to him.  "Pop this in, please."

He looked at her for a moment before taking it from her and putting it into the toaster behind him.

"Lorelai mentioned your toaster was broken yesterday," he said.

"That was a hint for Luke to go over and fix it."

"He was supposed to last night."

"He didn't though," she pointed out.

"Last night didn't go exactly as planned."

Their conversation hit a dead end as they both thought back to the night before.  The awkward silences, the dancing around what they both wanted to say, the questions they wanted to ask.  Their unspoken agreement that they would not mention the word love, that from now on, there would be no talk of their history.  He had asked what she had done with her life but they were both pretending.  Pretending that there was nothing outside of Stars Hollow, that she hadn't moved on and had her own life waiting for her in New York.  A fiancée that no one knew about…that Jess wouldn't ask about.  

Ignorance is bliss.

"So…" he said when the silence got to be too much.

"So…"  Rory repeated dumbly.  Then something occurred to her.  "You still work at the diner."  She wanted to slide down and hide.  What had tipped her off?  The fact that he was behind the counter or that he had asked for her order?  Of course he still worked at the diner.  Where had she been the past five minutes?  From here on out, she was blaming any idiotic remarks on her lack of sleep.

She had expected a sarcastic reply in which he called her Captain Obvious.  Instead he gave her a simple, "Unfortunately."

"Not a big fan of diner work?"  She asked grateful for his response but at the same time missing his usual sarcasm.

"I don't mind it but it's not something I was planning on doing at the age of twenty-four."

"Good point."

"But as soon as I get my GED, I'll be able to get a real job."

"Your GED?"  She asked.

"I'll never get a decent job without my high school diploma and technically I never graduated."

A pang of pity hit her.  He had missed one of the milestones of every teenager's life.  She remembered her own high school graduation.  Every detail was committed to her memory.  The butterflies zooming around her stomach as she gave her speech, her mother's face as she received her diploma, the tears in her eyes.  And then there had been that thought floating around in the back of her mind:  _Jess was never going to have this_.  The thought had almost brought her down for the rest of the day.

"Nice to see you striving to be better."  She really was quite surprised.  High school had been a trivial thing to him.  He had hated going and hadn't thought it worth his time.  Now here he was making plans for the future.

"I just don't want to be working in this diner when I'm thirty."

"That can be your goal," she said with a smile.  

"My new goal:  To no longer work in diner at age thirty."  He paused.  "And I can get a great job with a GED.  Did you know that more than 860,000 adults take the test every year?"

"I didn't."

"And one of every seven high school diplomas given yearly is based on passing the GED tests," he said spitting out another fact.

She smiled.  He had clearly researched this.  "How do I turn you off?"

"Change the subject."

She looked from him to her toaster and then back to him.  "My poptart's burning."

"Nice transition."  He quickly turned around and pushed up the bar on the toaster.  The poptart sprang into the air, and to Rory's amazement, he actually caught it before it went back in.  She had never quite perfected that move.  She then proceeded to cover her mouth and try to hold in laughter as he suddenly let go of the poptart and had to catch it in the other hand.  Apparently, he had forgotten how hot they could be.  He turned back toward her and dropped it in front of her causing part of the edges to break off and the crumbs to scatter across the counter.

"Here," he said.

She looked down at it with a pitiful look.  "You killed it."

"I did not."

"My poor poptart."

"I'll make you something else."

She looked up at him.  "But I wanted a poptart."

"You can't always get what you want."

And that was all it took.  Suddenly, she felt very sick.  She could never have what she wanted.  It was scientifically impossible.  Even if time travel was doable, the movie _The Time Machine_ proved that trying to change the past was pointless.  It had happened.  It was done.  But she couldn't get past what could have been if it hadn't.

That "What if" thought was forever eating away at her.  What if Jess had stepped off the curb two seconds later?  What if he had never skipped school?  What if they had never had that fight?  If she had never almost-kissed Dean, never sat down with him?  What if Lindsay had never broken up with him?

It's kind of funny how she could trace everything back to Lindsay, the nice blonde who had bought the Mark Twain magnet for her.  She was the one who had started the chain reaction, caused the dominoes to fall.  If Rory really wanted to, she could blame this all on her.

Life can be strange like that.

But… did she really want to be with Jess now?  Of course she wished the accident had never happened.  No one deserves to be stuck in an in-between for four years.  But even so, would they still be together now?  Four years later, would his engagement ring be on her finger?  Maybe they would have broken up anyway.  And without his accident, she never would have met Sam.  With Jess, she had been Yale bound only changing to Harvard to escape the memories of him.  And that had ultimately led her to Sam.  Maybe this was supposed to happen.  Maybe Sam was "the one".  Maybe fate just had a really sick sense of humor.  But then again…

It may suck not getting what you want.  But it was even worse not knowing exactly what you wanted in the first place.  That longing, that empty feeling that can only be filled up by _him_ and not being able to distinguish which him that is.  Jess was standing right in front of her and she would have liked nothing more than to lean forward and kiss him.  She could admit that.  But if Sam was here…if he was the one in front of her…she'd want the same thing with him.  

Her confusion was irritating her.  She wanted to know what she wanted.  Although it seemed like she couldn't even have that.  

"Rory?"  Jess asked.

She looked up at him and said in quiet voice, "I'll have some pancakes."

"Coming up."

He turned around to fill her order.  Her eyes were on his back and her hand was on her ring.

-*-

"Rory, bless you!  You have brought me coffee!"  Lorelai called out at the sight of her daughter.

"Hi, Mom," Rory said as she handed over a cup from _Luke's_.

Lorelai grabbed it and began to gulp the coffee down—faster than normal.  

"Are you okay?"  Rory asked, staring at her mother with wide eyes.

"No," she replied.  "Today I'm working with pure evil.  Her name strikes fear in the hearts of all, her voice will send shivers down your spine, and if she changes the menu one more time I may have to bash her over her head with her clipboard."

"Are you going to explain who this ungodly person is?"

"Her name is Annabelle and she is the senior class president of Stars Hollow High, a.k.a. the prom coordinator."

"Prom?"  Rory asked.

"Yup.  The high school is having their prom tomorrow but we have to set up today because Miss-Everything-Including-The-Food-and-Streamers-Must-Be-Color-Coordinated won't have to time to supervise tomorrow."

"Supervise?"

"Oh, yes.  She insists on watching everyone set up.  She has this eagle eye and can spot a crooked streamer from a mile away."

"Lorelai!"  A voice screeched.

Rory jumped.  "What the hell was that?"

"I told you her voice would scare you," Lorelai whispered.

"That wasn't a voice.  Whatever that was wasn't human."

A thin redhead carrying a clip board walked over to them and stopped in front of Lorelai.  For such a small person, she had a very big voice.  "What is this?"  She asked, holding a balloon up.

Lorelai glanced at Rory, her expression asking if this was a trick question.  Rory just shrugged.

"Well, Annabelle…"  Lorelai paused when she saw her eyebrows go up.  Lorelai rolled her eyes and took a deep breath.  "Well, _ma'am, I believe that's a balloon."_

"There's no need for sarcasm, _Lorelai_," Annabelle said, accentuating the name the same way Lorelai had with ma'am.  "This is the color aqua, correct?"

"I guess so."

"I ordered aquamarine."

"They're basically the same color."

"They are not," Annabelle insisted.  "Look, this shade is brighter.  It's too bright."

"You do know that the prom will be dark.  No one will be able to tell what color the balloons are, let alone the differences in shades."

"I need you to get this fixed, Lorelai," she said as she stormed off.

"Mom, I can't believe you would let her treat you like that," Rory said, turning to face her mother.

"Murder is illegal, murder is illegal, murder is illegal," Lorelai muttered over and over again.

"Mom?"

"They're paying us real well.  And I'm afraid that if the prom isn't to her liking, she'll pull a Carrie there."

"That could be bad for the students," Rory pointed out.

"I was going to say it would be bad for the inn but yeah, death is definitely bad too."

"Lorelai!"  Annabelle yelled from across the room.

"I swear that girl is Satan."  Lorelai sighed.  "I'll go and take care of that but I'll be back in a few minutes so don't go anywhere, okay?"

"I won't." 

"And do me a favor and call a priest," Lorelai said before she walked off.

Rory sighed and took a look around the Independence Inn, unsure of what to do.  She ended up sitting down on one of the couches.  This was what she hated.  These moments of nothing to do, no way to occupy her mind.  Nothing to do but think.  It was times like these that made her long for the days she could still read.

So prom was tomorrow.  She had never gone to hers.  Sometimes she regretted staying home that night, missing out on the "once in a lifetime experience" as Lane had described it.  She didn't like thinking back to prom night.  Of that pain that had filled her entire body, weighing her down until she sank into her bed, burying herself beneath layers of blankets.  She had spent the night holding back tears and imagining what the dance would have been like if Jess had been there.  Of that one perfect dance every teenage girl is guaranteed.  That one perfect moment.  It depressed her now to remember how the room seemed to spin as she laid there, looking up at the ceiling.  How lost she had felt.  

She tried her best to push the memory from her mind.  A new popped in, taking its place.  A memory of him.  She hated these, they were always haunting her, making her remember feelings she had long since buried.  But she was letting it take over anyway.  The memory became clearer and a nostalgic feeling washed over her…

_"You're really excited about this whole prom thing, huh?"  Jess asked._

_"What?  Who, me?  No.  Prom, no big deal," she replied._

_"You've been chattering about it for the past fifteen minutes."_

_"Chattering?"_

_"A chattering chatterbox."_

_"Is that a joke?"  She asked._

_"It's alliteration."_

_She rolled her eyes at his remark.  "Lane has been talking about it non-stop for the past week and I don't know…"_

_"Rory…"  He paused.  "Would you like to go to prom?"_

_"No."_

_"What?"_

_"No. I mean, that was terrible.  Ask me again."_

_"Are you kidding me?"  He asked._

_"And when you say it, don't make it sound like it will cause you bodily harm."_

_He looked down, his gaze fixed on the counter for a second, a smile tugging at his lips.  Then he looked back up at her and took her hand in his._

_"Rory, will you do me the honor of being my date for the Stars Hollow Prom?"_

_She tugged her hand away and poked him in the shoulder.  "You're making this into a joke."_

_"I'm not asking again."_

_"Alright, alright.  I would love to go to the prom with you."_

_"I hope you know that I'm not going in a tux."_

_"Birthday suit?"  She asked, trying to copy his smirk._

_"I meant jeans but whatever makes you happy…"_

_"Jeans and your Metallica T-shirt?"_

_"Perfect."  He turned around, about to get back to work.  Then he froze and turned back to look at her and sighed.  "I'll get fitted for a tux next week."_

_She smiled.  "Thank you," she said as she leaned forward.  She was going to kiss him, he was only inches away…_

"Rory?"  A voice asked.

He was too far away now.  Just out of her reach.

Her head snapped up and she saw her mom standing over her.  "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Rory replied, trying to shake away her thoughts.

"Are you sure?  You look very pale.  Oh god, Annabelle didn't curse you or something, did she?"

Rory tried to force out a laugh but it came out sounding half-hearted, fake.  "No, she didn't."

"Good because I need you to come to the kitchen with me."

"How come?"  She asked as she stood up to follow Lorelai.

"I need your help.  This is the plan:  I need you to stand behind Sookie and hold your arms out, ready to catch her.  Then after I explain to her the prom menu change, she'll faint into them."

"What if I don't catch her?"

"Well you can always just stand behind her and let her fall on you."

"You want me to break her fall?"  Rory asked.

"Sounds good."

"That'll be Plan B," she said as they entered the kitchen, the doors swinging shut behind them.

-*-


	7. Oh, These Memories

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Gilmore Girls. I don't own "A Thousand Miles" by Vanessa Carlton. I also don't own Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier. (Yes, those are direct quotes.) 

**A/N**: A thousand apologies. Finals stressed me out. And snail speed is a huge flaw of mine. Thanks for all the fantastic reviews. I really appreciate them. And a HUGE thanks to Avid—for her wonderful encouragement—and to Sweet (*bows down* All hail the queen! lol)—for putting up with my craziness, not complaining about it, and for being a kick ass beta. Without the two of them, this chapter would have taken so much longer. And to avoid confusion as to what day it is… it's Thursday. 

  
**Chapter Seven**: Oh, These Memories 

  
_And I, I  
Don't want to let you know  
I, I  
Drown in your memory  
I, I  
Don't want to let this go  
I, I  
Don't.... _

  
"Hello?" 

"Hi, Sam." 

"Rory, hi!" 

"I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" 

"Well, I have a meeting in one minute. So you have exactly two. Now…go!" 

"Um…uh…you can't rush me. I get flustered." 

"Sorry," he said, stifling a laugh. "Take your time. Is there any particular reason you called?" 

"Not really. I'm on my way home from the inn. I just wanted to say hi. And, oh yeah, I wanted to tell you that I just had a near death experience," she explained. 

"Oh, now this sounds serious. Do explain." 

"I was at the inn today watching people set up for the prom when a ladder fell. Nearly took me out." 

"And when you say nearly you actually mean you were on the other side of the room." 

"Well…it did make a big noise when it fell. Scared me half to death." 

"Poor Rory," he said in a sympathetic tone. 

"I'll get over it," she explained, nodding her head. 

"You're so brave. Oh, dammit, I have to get going but quick question." 

"Yeah?" 

"How's Saturday?" He asked. 

"Saturday? How is what Saturday?" 

"Is Saturday a good day to come to Stars Hollow?" 

"Oh." Rory froze. "Saturday…" Oh, god. The thought hadn't even crossed her mind. Of course he wanted to come. Why hadn't she thought of this before? 

"It's not a definite. I have a lunch with Jack and a client whose name I can neither spell nor pronounce, but I may be able to get out of it. So Saturday is a maybe." 

"Saturday…" She repeated. 

"Ror, are you okay?" 

"Still in shock over near death." 

"Right, right," he said, unsuccessfully holding back a laugh. "I gotta go but I'll call you later about Saturday, okay?" 

"Saturday. Right. Sure." 

"I love you." 

"Love you too." She hung up her phone and slipped it into her pocket. She continued walking, feeling rather dazed. He was coming to Stars Hollow. She wanted to feel happy about this. Part of her was excited to see him. But an overwhelming sense of dread tainted that excitement. He couldn't come now. Things with Jess were so… up in the air. Sam didn't know about him, and he didn't know about Sam. And absolutely no one knew about the engagement. Then, there was that nagging feeling that she couldn't ignore. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't make it go away. She was hanging on… to a feeling, a memory. And every time she saw Jess, that feeling grew stronger. She couldn't let it go. 

At some point, she had reached her driveway. She didn't really notice her surroundings until she felt the doorknob of the front door in her hand. The fact that it was unlocked—and she had most definitely locked it before she had left that morning—didn't even register. She was too busy mulling over her current predicament. The door closed behind her, and she headed straight for her room. Slowly, the exhaustion began to set in. A combination of her lack of sleep and being on her feet all day. She wondered why she hadn't felt it before. She reached her doorway. 

What the hell? 

"Jess?" She asked, taking a step back. 

He jumped slightly when he heard his name. He turned around and said, "You're not supposed to be home yet." 

"Oh, sorry, should I go outside and circle the block a few more times?" 

"No need," he said, ignoring her sarcasm. "I was going to borrow a couple of books but now that you're here, I can just ask you." 

She walked forward and joined him in front of her bookcase. "And when you say borrow, you mean steal." 

"I'm planning on returning them." He paused. "Eventually." 

She rolled her eyes. "So you broke into my house to steal my books?" 

"I didn't break into your house." 

"Came down the chimney?" 

"No, Luke lent me his key." 

"Luke was your accomplice?" She asked. 

"Yes. My accomplice in this big, elaborate scheme to fix your toaster." 

"You fixed our toaster?" 

"That's why I'm here," he explained. "Luke sent me to fix it. He called me the toaster master. It was kind of strange." He ran his fingers over the bindings of the books in front of him. "So it's all fixed, and I was going to grab a couple of books before I left but now that you're here… I'll just invite myself to stay." 

"How considerate of you." 

"It's almost time for the dinner rush at _Luke's_. I'd rather stay here and use the excuse that your toaster was so screwed up I had to completely take it apart." 

"So you're going to leave poor Luke all by himself to handle the rush?" 

"He's managed without me before." 

Almost five years without Jess. She took a deep breath and turned back to her bookcase. She was reading too much into his comment. "I'll tell Luke I found you standing over the hundreds of pieces in tears. Would that help your alibi?" 

"Yes, thank you." 

He grabbed the paperback his finger was resting on. Then, he began to scan another shelf. "Do you realize you have several shelves of books here?" 

"Oh? Is that what these are called?" She asked, feigning surprise. 

"I was just wondering why there are so many here. Didn't you bring any to New York with you?" 

"I…well, I really haven't had much time to read lately." 

"So?" 

"What do you mean so?" 

"That still doesn't explain why all of these wonderful pieces of literature are collecting dust here instead of in a bookcase in New York." 

"Tiny apartment. No room." 

He still didn't seem satisfied with her answer, but let it go. "When's the last time you sat down and read a good book?" He asked as he grabbed a random hardcover. 

Five years ago. "It's been awhile," she admitted. 

"Huh," was all he said. He then turned around—with the two novels in tow—and started for the kitchen. "Coming?" 

"Uh… coming where?" She asked, darting a look of longing towards her bed. She wasn't sure how much longer she'd be able to stand. She followed him out to her living room, where he took a seat at the end of the couch. 

"Here," he said, offering a book to her. 

"What?" 

"It's a book," he explained. "You open it up and it tells a story." 

She blinked. "I know what a book is. But I…" 

"You what? Don't have time to read?" 

"Nope. I have tons of things to do." 

"Like?" He asked. 

"Well, I…" She paused to think. Then, sighing, she plopped down on the opposite end of the couch. Slowly, she sank back into the cushions. Her legs had been about two seconds from buckling. She turned to him and his outstretched hand, having an internal debate with herself. Reading with him? Something they used to do all the time together. That was their thing, what made them different, bonded them together. And it was something she hadn't done herself in years. She very much doubted that she could just sit down and suddenly dive back into a novel. And she wasn't sure she could deal with this right now. This familiar feeling… this longing… 

Hesitantly, she reached out and took the paperback from him. It was upside down so she turned it around to read the title. And that was when the feeling intensified. Her heart began to beat faster, and she wouldn't admit it later but tears sprang to her eyes. She was about to cry at the sight of a book. One she hadn't looked at in so long. One she had hidden, hoping to never come across. One she had once loved to read over and over, just to reach that certain page. To see his tiny handwriting shoved into the margin. She looked up at him, blinking rapidly to hide the tears. Why did he pick this one? Of all the novels she had in her room…was he trying to tell her something? 

"What's wrong?" He asked, confused when he saw her expression. "Oh, sorry. I forgot." She sighed with relief, disappointment. It was just a mistake. He didn't mean anything by it. "You don't like this book, right?" 

Wow. She had never realized words could hurt so much. Once again, she was blinking back tears, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. No. This couldn't be right. "I love this book," she said. "It's one of my favorites." 

At his confused expression, she turned her head back to look at the novel in her lap. She didn't want him to see her face. He didn't remember. How could he not remember? She tried to replay the memory of when he gave her the book in her mind but it came out fuzzy. The details were too hazy; she couldn't even remember the color of the bow. Suddenly, it seemed like a dream, an event that she had only imagined. Without him, it was like it had never happened at all. 

Her eyes bore into the cover of the novel, reading the title over and over. On the Road. And a nagging thought: were the words even there? If she opened to the page right now, would his handwriting be present? Perhaps she'd find it empty. Maybe it would be better that way. She could pretend it never happened. Pretend it didn't hurt so much to know that he had forgotten a memory that was so important to her. One she liked to fall asleep thinking about. And then, another thought, a taunting voice in the back of her head: 

_He doesn't remember loving you. _

No, that couldn't be right. Just because he had forgotten this one thing didn't mean he didn't remember everything else. But… what if they were all empty memories? Hollow remembrances of him and a girl that, for the life of him, he couldn't remember why he had dated. Just because he remembered them together didn't mean he remembered the feelings. The way her hand fit perfectly in his, the way she kissed, how she tasted… And it hurt her to think that. It was almost too much. 

"Ror?" He asked, his voice worried. "Did I…" 

She took a deep breath. Don't show it, she ordered herself. It's not his fault. Don't cry. 

"Did you know prom is tomorrow?" She asked suddenly, willing the knot in her throat to loosen. Not exactly a smooth transition, but a change of subject was needed, and it was the first thing that popped into her head. 

"What?" 

"Prom. The Stars Hollow Prom is at the inn tomorrow night. I watched them set up today." She tried her best to ignore the lingering pain. Just concentrate on the conversation. 

"Ah, the prom." He paused, a smirk slowly forming on his face. 

"What?" She asked. 

"'Mr. Mariano, that tux is simply _too_ big for you. We'll just have to find something smaller.'"

"Oh my god," she said, a laugh escaping her throat. 

"I'm not that short," he insisted. "I just happened to be shorter than that bitchy saleslady." 

"Jess, if you hadn't insulted her outfit then maybe she wouldn't have been so mean to you. Dave was a perfect gentleman, and he was fitted for his tux in less than twenty minutes." 

"That woman was already evil. My comment about her less than flattering mini-skirt had nothing to do with her attitude. She had it in for me as soon as she saw me. It was like she could tell I didn't want to be there." 

"You didn't want to be there? What's this? And I thought that scowl was an expression of your enjoyment." 

"Oh, yes. I was so thrilled to be trying on a hundred and one different tuxes. I especially enjoyed the red one that insane woman threw me in." 

Rory lost it then. She burst out laughing, near tears once again but for entirely different reasons than before. "I… forgot… all… about that," she said, between laughs. "You looked just like a…" 

"Yes, thank you, Rory. I know, all I needed was a few gold chains and I would have looked like a pimp. You know that would have made you my-" 

"Watch it," she cut in, still smiling. "That red tux looked stunning on you but I liked the one we finally ended up with." 

"It made me look like a penguin." 

"No!" She insisted. "You looked like a secret agent." 

"How can I forget? You called me Double O Wal-Mart for the rest of the day." 

She found herself laughing once again. Finally, memories that weren't killing her. "All you needed was the blue vest to go underneath it." 

He was silent for a moment, and she felt a change in the air. Don't, she silently pleaded. Please don't ask whatever it is on your mind. Don't ruin this. They were laughing, smiling together. For once, it didn't hurt so much. 

"Did you end up going to the prom?" He asked, his gaze seemed to go right through her. 

Her smile disappeared. "Did I go?" 

"Yeah." 

"Of course I didn't go. Jess, it was barely a month after…" She trailed off. 

"Oh. I just wanted to know." He paused. "Did Lane go?" 

"Yeah. But she came over to see me beforehand. Dave had to pry her off my arm when it was time to go. She felt horrible for leaving me at home." 

"Huh." Another pause. "Did she have a good time?" 

"After a good hour of worrying about me, she had a blast." An uncomfortable feeling settled over her, and she wondered if he felt it too. The room was draped in awkwardness, and she wanted the conversation to end. It seemed like no matter what they talked about, they ended up back here: an awkward silence. Perhaps it didn't matter what they talked about. It was just because it was them. She wondered if things between them would ever be completely normal again. 

She looked down at her hands and then at Jess's. He still held the hardcover. She read the title to herself and a small smile sprang to her lips. "Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again." 

"What?" He asked. 

"Rebecca," she said, gesturing toward the book. "Good choice." 

He looked down at the book. "Oh. I just grabbed any random book." 

"Not a big fan of this one?" 

"It was too predictable." 

Her jaw dropped. "Too predictable?" She asked, shocked. The previous awkwardness seemed to melt away as she defended the novel. "Are you kidding me? When Maxim confessed, I practically jumped out of my chair." 

"Seriously? I mean, it is," he began, picking up the book and pointing to the writing on the front cover, "the unsurpassed modern masterpiece of romantic suspense. See that? Suspense. How could you not suspect Maxim?" 

"Well, I figured there was something off about Rebecca's death but I never…" She paused. "Wait… do you mean to tell me that you also knew what the doctor was going to say? That you weren't on the edge of your seat wondering whether or not Maxim was going to get away with it?" 

"I…" He began. "I wasn't on the edge of my seat," he explained. 

"Uh huh. Eat your words." 

"No. I stand by my previous statement." 

"Right, right. You just don't want to admit you were wrong." 

"It's my opinion. Do you know what that means? It can't be wrong." 

"It can and it is," she said, nodding. "But despite the 'predictability', did you enjoy the writing style? I loved the descriptions used. The entire first chapter was just a description of Manderley and its surroundings. It was amazing." She found herself smiling once again. It had been way too long since she had done this. And she was surprised at how much she remembered. It had been at least seven years since she had read Rebecca. 

"She was very wordy." 

"Okay, so you didn't like the book." 

"I didn't say that." 

"Not in so many words," she said. 

"I liked the main character. How's that?" 

"Okay, now you're getting somewhere. I liked her too. I love how her name was never given. It was like she always had to assume a role. First she was a companion, and then she was the second Mrs. de Winter. She was never just herself." 

"Interesting thoughts on our nameless heroine. Would you like to read Rebecca instead?" 

"Yeah, that would be nice." 

"Okay, hand me On the Road." 

Rory felt herself freeze once again. "No," she said quickly. She didn't want to give it to him. It didn't seem right for him to sit there and read it and not understand the deeper meaning. And she didn't want him to open to that page. She didn't want him to see the words and not understand, not remember. Another confused expression on his face. 

"What do you mean?" 

"Why don't we read Rebecca together?" 

"Uh, okay," he said, uncertain. 

She wasn't entirely sure why she had made the suggestion. But as long as he didn't see the other book, she was happy. 

"Rory?" 

"Yeah?" 

"You might want to move closer if you want to read this with me." 

"Right, right." She was a moron for doing this. She slid down the couch, stopping just as their knees touched. She swept her legs up underneath her, and suddenly, they were shoulder to shoulder. She was leaning on him. 

He opened the book to the first page, and she shifted her gaze from him to the book. What a strange feeling. Her eyes were on the words, and she tried to read them, but she couldn't concentrate. It was like her head was swimming. She blinked a couple of times, furrowing her brow. Jess moved his hand to turn the page, and she used her own hand to stop him. 

"Hold on," she said, her voice low. She didn't seem to notice that her hand was still resting on his. 

"Since when are you so slow?" He asked. 

"Shhh." 

_Last night I dreamt I went to Manderley again. _

Alright, that part she knew. She had just quoted it. Her eyes moved to the next sentence. 

_It seemed to me I stood by the iron gate leading to the drive, and for a while I could not enter, for the way was barred to me. _

The words ran through her mind, seeming out of place there. 

_There was a padlock and a chain upon the gate. I called in my dream to the lodge-keeper, and he had no answer, and peering closer through the rusted spokes… _

She allowed herself a small smile as her eyes began to dart across the page. It was slow going, but finally the words didn't seem so foreign to her. She finished up the page and turned to the next.

Once again, he finished before her, and she had to stop him from moving on to the next page. 

"How about you turn the page when you're done?" 

"Okay," she said, only half-listening. She was trying to take it in, all at once. The words couldn't come fast enough. She was ready to explore the Manderley estate, wander into the Happy Valley with the rhododendrons towering above her, fifty feet high. 

He lifted his arm above her head and rested it on the couch behind her. "It's more comfortable this way," he explained. 

She gave a slight nod, not really paying attention to him or her surroundings. The familiar feeling that had been threatening to take over earlier had completely overpowered her, yet she didn't really notice. What she felt seemed natural to her. She had once again fallen back to years before where they did this all the time. She leaned farther into him, and slowly, he inched his arm forward until it was around her shoulders. A small sigh escaped her lips, and Jess looked over at her. A slow smile. 

Rory yawned, the exhaustion coming over her once again. By page five, her yawns were more frequent. By page eight, her eyelids were drooping. By page ten, her head was on his shoulder. His shirt felt soft under her cheek, and she felt her eyes closing. She tried her best to stay awake, wanting to delve farther into the make believe world that she missed fiercely. But instead, she allowed sleep to claim her as she lost herself in the one thing she missed more. 

His touch. 

  
-*-


	8. Melt

**A/N**:  *blows off dust*  Life got hectic, and I got a severe case of writer's block when it came to this story, I'm really sorry.  I never meant to let this go for so long.  Thanks to **ALL my reviewers (I really **appreciate** all of you) and to **Melissa**, ****Marissa, ****Lia, **Ali**, and ****Mai (my dahling motivational Wakko).  My muse randomly returned after I saw the premiere of Evanescence's (excellent) new video "My Immortal"—that is, after all, the theme song of this story.  Also, Marissa asked me nicely for an update a few times, so I had to come through.  I sure hope it doesn't disappoint.**

Oh and here's a bit of a **recap**.  I think it's needed:  Rory and Jess are together, they're in love, they fight, and Jess gets in an accident the next day.  He's in a coma, Rory's upset, and she chooses Harvard over Yale.  She meets Sam at Harvard, falls in love, Sam proposes, and then Rory finds out Jess is awake (and has been for some time).  She returns to Stars Hollow, she and Jess have an awkward first meeting, and a slightly better one later that night.  They talk at the diner, Rory helps out at the inn for prom (which, by the way, is organized by Annabelle), Sam calls saying he may be able to make it up there for Saturday, and Rory's worried.  Rory and Jess talk, read, and she falls asleep on his shoulder.  That was on Thursday.  The prom is Friday.  It is now Friday.  Got it?  Good.  Heh.

**Chapter Eight**:  Melt

She sat on the bed, frozen, her eyes boring into the object that sat in front of her.  The box wasn't very large; medium size, she supposed.  Brown, nondescript, and very much an everyday, ordinary object that no one ever looked at twice.  The top had never been sealed, which now she regretted not doing.  It would be all too easy for her to kneel before it, gingerly lift the top and peer inside.  If it had been taped, then she'd have to walk all the way to the kitchen to fetch a knife, and by the time she had returned, her nerve would be lost, the knife in her hand useless.  That was what she was doing right now, she was sure of it.  Waiting, breathing, in out, in out, and trying to stir up enough courage to go near it.  Why she pulled it out in the first place was beyond her.  She had been looking for something, a book maybe, or an old notebook, something from the past (she really needed to learn to let go), and she had stumbled across it.  Then her mind had switched on to auto pilot, and she had floated along, watching as she pulled the box out, and then dragged it across her bedroom floor.  Now it was still there, waiting for her, and she could only stare.

Her heartbeat was irregular, her breathing was impaired, and her eyes were blurry from tears she refused to accept were forming.  The silence from the empty house hung around her, weighing down on her shoulders, slowly suffocating her.  She wouldn't realize it until it was too late, when she'd try to breathe in and come up with nothing.  Time was ticking away, and this was how she was spending her afternoon—a staring contest with a brown cardboard box, open and waiting.  It was all about waiting, she realized too late.  Waiting for something that as soon as you get, you won't want anymore.  

Want?  Or simply can't have?

She was tired of these puzzling thoughts; they swirled around her head, clouding any effortless action she'd try to complete.  She was simply tired.  As of late, sleep was incredibly troublesome, often escaping her grasp just as she closed in on it.  The afternoon before, she had been lucky—or not, she still couldn't decide.  She had fallen asleep in the middle of reading, and he had provided a most comfortable pillow.  What had he done after she slipped into dreamland?  Had he shoved her off of him, leaving right away?  Had he stroked her hair, thinking back on times past?  Or had he gone on reading, unaffected, not caring, because the memory he had intact didn't provide built-in feelings for her?  Whatever it had been, she had woken hours later to darkness and an empty house.  

It didn't matter though because she didn't care (she told herself that every night before she went to sleep, it was a meaningless mantra).  So what if he had left before she woke?  Sometimes there was no hidden meaning to analyze.  Sometimes it just was, and she needed to accept that.

Like she needed to accept that she had been the one to drag out that box, exhume the past, and therefore, she would be the one to bury it again.  Stop staring, the voice in her mind ordered.  Go over and look at it, open it up, peek inside.  You weren't supposed to forget, that wasn't how it worked:  Remember and then let go.  Five years, and she was still holding on, fingers gripping the edges, nails digging in, heels dragging on the ground.  She _refused to let go, and accepting a ring, despite her belief, was not moving on.  It was a temporary distraction, and the sooner she realized that, the better._

Movement, now.  It was her, finally standing, finally walking, and then kneeling in front of this brown unsealed box.  Baby steps, she figured.  At least she had gotten closer.  A pause, because she was hesitant, unsure.  First she needed to calm her heartbeat, take in a normal, even breath.  She took her left wrist into her right hand and felt her pulse:  irregular.  This was borderline pathetic, so sad.  She was such a sad girl.  Pity looks, soft words, people second guessing what they said because they didn't want to set her off.  Although she was very breakable, she never shattered in public.  Tears were personal, and she saved each and every one for the comfort of her bedroom.  She hadn't received treatment like that, however, in college.  Only in Stars Hollow, right after the accident, when she came home during the summer, on select weekends when she visited.  The townies, all with a careful eye on her, watching and waiting for her crumble.

It was all about waiting, wasn't it?

Her fingertips lightly brushed the top of the box, and dipped into the small opening between the flaps.  Immediately they brushed a familiar fabric, rather rough but slightly silky, and now there was no turning back.  Quick as a flash, the box was open, and her graduation gown was lying in her lap.  Was that a small smile playing at her lips?  Her senior yearbook was next, and faded remembrances accompanied it.  She set this aside as well, because she knew, oh she knew, what hid beneath it.  The first glance was meant to fool everyone, a box of school memories, of her graduation.  But she saw this for what it really was; after all, she had packed it herself.

_Howl_ came first.  This thin book brought the shyness of a first glance with it, first meeting, first conversation.  It was always a first, because even without him, there was one to remember.  Anniversaries of kisses, and dates, and an accident:  first time without him.

_Oliver Twist_, most appropriately, lay beneath _Howl.  It certainly fit with the thought process in her head.  She had called him Dodger, and he had smirked, and the seed of friendship had been planted.  That had been a most wonderful evening._

More novels were inside, littering the bottom.  It had been her futile attempt to purge any memory of him.  He had been ripped from her life, and now she was trashing the part of him that remained.  But really, it was insane… there were too many books, everywhere, she'd never be rid of them all.  Instead only a few made it in, never to be taken out, and she wondered why _On the Road had never been hidden inside.  _

Because she didn't want to forget.  Because she was too damn stubborn.  She wanted to stumble across it.  A part of her knew that.

Pictures came next, only a few.  There was one of her, and it took her two full minutes to realize the reason behind its presence in the box.  He had taken it, she could see that now.  It was the camera she had received from her mother for kicks, and she had asked him to photograph her.  He had begrudgingly accepted, held the camera in his hand, and stared at it with a clueless expression on his face.  Cameras confused him, it seemed, or at least that one had—it had been rather complicated—and she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing.  Then she had stood right next to him, holding it in front of them, and gave an explanation for each button she pointed too.  And he had listened!  He had nodded his head, and even chuckled softly when she accidentally took a picture of their shoes (where was that one, she wondered).  Then, satisfied with her lesson, he had brought it to his eye, told her that if she said cheese he'd mock her for the rest of the day (this had caused her to smile… now, she saw his trick), and click:  A slightly blurry, titled picture, although she was free of red eye.

The next picture was the two of them.  It was from the same day, she was sure of it, and the expression on his face was priceless.  The two of them had been in animated conversation when Lane had ambled over there, secretive smile playing on her lips, and she had taken it without either Rory's or his knowledge.  It was proof that he didn't always appear stoic, evidence that he was fully capable of a smile, of happiness.  Of course, as soon as the flash went off, he had turned to Lane, anger etched across his face, and Rory had had to laugh.  Hadn't he kissed her then?  To shut her up, she thought now, but all the same, hadn't he leaned close, muttering about how evil and intrusive Lane was?  Hands landing on her hips, a kiss lingering as she swallowed her laughter, leaning into him…

She was standing up now, in front of her bookcase.  It was anger flowing through her veins, and she couldn't pinpoint the reason for this emotion.  It was better than a never-ending flood of tears, she supposed, or at least would have thought if her mind had been fully functioning.  She scooped up an armful of novels that stood in front of her and dropped them inside.  Once, twice, she did this, until she fell back on her bed, taking short, ragged breaths.  Tears were trying to seep out, but she wouldn't allow that.  Blinking rapidly, she stood up, and stomped off into the living room.  Seconds later she had returned, the final piece in her hand, _On the Road_… she threw it on top of the pile, shut the box, and pushed it backwards.  It was heavier now, much harder to move, especially when she couldn't even see straight.  Finally, she left it at the entrance of her closet, and the pictures and graduation memorabilia were thrown on top of it.  She left her room then, slamming the door behind her, afraid a pale ghost would escape, because they were always haunting her, no matter where she was:  Stars Hollow, Boston, New York…

She collapsed on the couch and closed her eyes, as the distant sound of her cell phone broke through her haze.  Shutting her eyes tighter, she ignored it, even though she knew who it was.  Sleep should have come then, but unfortunately, never did.

-*-

"Guess what?"  Lorelai asked, plopping down on the couch next to her daughter, later that evening.

"Luke proposed?"

"What?  No!  Wait, why, have you heard something?"

"No, no, calm down.  I'm bad at these guessing games."

"I think you get that from me."

"Must be genetic," Rory remarked.

"I want you to go into your room and put on a pretty party dress because—"

"No," Rory interrupted.

"What?"

"No."

"Oh come on, it'll be lots of fun."

"I don't want to put on a pretty dress and go to the stupid dance."

"Then we'll find you an ugly one."

"Mom," Rory said, warningly.

"Oh come on.  It's not like you're just coming for the hell of it.  You'll be a chaperone!"

"Are you insane?"

"I don't have that straight jacket hanging in my closet for nothing."

"Why would I want to go tonight?  I don't want to chaperone, or dress up, or move.  I'll be just fine sitting right here, thank you."

"Come on sweetie, it'll be fun.  I'll be there, and we can make fun of the girls who chose the wrong dresses and have hairstylists who obviously hate them.  And if we're really lucky, some senior will spike the punch!  And then the _real fun will begin."_

"I don't like you right now.  Please leave me to my TV," Rory said, shooing her mother away.

"Come on, you've been in the house all day.  It's time to go out.  And I need another chaperone.  Really I do."

"Ask someone else."

"But I want my daughter to be there with me.  I need protection from Annabelle."

"She still driving you nuts?"  Rory asked.

"Yes.  But I figured two Gilmores against her can win out!  Now come on, go throw on a tight skirt and a low cut shirt.  I guarantee some high school boys will ask you to dance."

"Oh well in that case…" Rory said sarcastically.

"Please.  I'll pout.  I'll beg.  I'll let you borrow my clothes."

Rory sighed, "Fine, I'll go.  But if this kills me, just know that my death is all your fault.  You killed your only daughter!"

"Fine, fine, I killed my daughter, I'm a terrible mother, whatever.  Now go upstairs and raid my closet.  I'm sure you can find some kind of skirt up there."

Rory did as she was told, and climbed the stairs, and headed into her mother's room.  She opened the door to the closet (what was with her and closets today?), and began to sift through the hanging clothes.  First she found a tasteful shirt, a cotton white that seemed comfortable enough, so she slipped her own off and put it on.  A skirt was next, and easier to find, because anything would match.  Although Rory didn't care much for matching, or looking good, or the whole idea of chaperoning at all.  She wanted to do nothing other than curl up on the couch, and take a nap, the television providing a sort of lullaby for her.  Why the prom?  Why tonight?  Why?  It was frustrating and draining, and she was already having visions of a horrible time.  She had never been to a prom, didn't want to go to one, and here her mother was, dragging her anyway.  

However, she would play the dutiful daughter.  She replaced her jeans with a black skirt, and turned to head downstairs.  Her mother met her in the doorway, an approving grin on her face.  "I have taught you well, Grasshopper."  

Rory rolled her eyes and continued on her way through the hallway.  Lorelai, meanwhile, moved farther inside, eyes on her daughter's clothes that lay in a crumbled heap on the floor.  She lifted the jeans from the ground and shook them, preparing to fold them.  But first the glint of a small object caught her eye.  Something had fallen from inside the pockets.  She leaned down and snatched it up before bringing it to eye level.  So small, very pretty, a diamond ring that looked very much like…

"Rory!"  Lorelai's voice rang out.  "Rory?"  She called as she entered the hallway, and came down the stairs.  Across the room, at the door, was her daughter, impatiently waiting to go.

"No more talking.  It's now or never and I'm three seconds from running away, screaming, and locking myself in my room."

"That'd be a sight," Lorelai said, taking a few steps forward.  "I just wanted--"

"Nope, that's talking.  We're leaving now…"  

Lorelai nodded mutely, slipping the ring into a pocket of a hanging coat.  She followed her daughter out the door, wondering when the right time would come to bring this up.

-*-

Rory was a wallflower tonight.  Off to the side, she stood, eyes studying the happy dancing couples that were scattered about the floor.  Smiling, everyone was having such a fantastic time.  It was a carefree night, one that was destined to be memorable, and she wanted nothing more than to be a thousand miles away.  It was pure torture.  At first she had been convinced that she'd be fine.  Entering the huge ball room, lights already dim, and only a quick feeling of regret sliced through her and then—nothing.  

But, unfortunately, that was the problem.

It was the numbing emptiness that swelled in her chest, dipping further down into her stomach, that was killing her.  She felt cold, an icy uneasiness that hung around her shoulders, as love songs filled her ears.  She should have never come here tonight.  She was better off at home, surrounded by ghosts from the past to keep her company.  This was somehow worse than remembering.  There was a certain element of fantasy present; a what if… anything could have happened.  Anything.  This night could have been theirs years ago, and each and every day after that…  Now she was left alone to fill in the blanks, wondering and wishing, creating elaborate reveries that could have been before they were unceremoniously yanked away from her.  Play another love song, dream of late nights and lost chances; this was going to be a long night.

"So… what do you think?"

And it just got longer…

She turned at the sound of his voice, not believing for one second that it was actually him.  He wouldn't be here, _couldn't be here.  But then, there he was, hands in his pockets, stance slightly uncomfortable, waiting patiently for her to speak.  When she didn't… "Better than jeans and a Metallica T-Shirt?"_

"It's completely impossible that you remember that."

"Why?"

"Because I barely do."  A small smile graced her face, and she looked him up and down, her grin slowly growing wider.  "Oh wow, you are like thisclose to being dressed up," she said, holding her pointer finger and thumb close together.  "Almost presentable."

"Almost doesn't count except for in horseshoes and hand grenades."

"Thank you for those very wise words," she rolled her eyes.  Jess shrugged and moved next to her, before leaning back against the wall.  "What are you doing here?"  She asked.

"I always hang out at the prom.  It's a favorite spot of mine."

"Or…" she prompted.

"Or Lorelai mentioned yesterday that she was going to drag you here."

"No!  She's been planning this since yesterday?  I can't believe it!"

"She plans ahead.  She is _very manipulative, Luke can attest to that."_

"So… just because I'm here, you came too?"

"Uhh, something like that… More of me coming to save you from a very cheesy, sugarcoated death.  A self-inflicted one, if they play enough pop songs...  Or, of course, if any crazed, middle-aged males look to dance with you," he explained, his gaze directed over her shoulder.

"What?"  She stood up straight, alarmed.

"Don't look now, but I think the Algebra teacher wants to take you for a spin."

"You're kidding me!  Six different guys ranging from teenage pervert to scary older pervert have asked me tonight.  Oh god, he'll be lucky number seven…  That self-inflicted death sounds kind of good right now…  Do you think the streamers would hold my weight?"

"Come on, I'll dance with you instead.  I'll be your lucky number seven," he smirked, just as the aforementioned Algebra teacher stopped next to Rory.  She shot the man a smile, before politely excusing herself and grabbing Jess's hand.

"Alright fine, but I'm still considering death by streamers."

"So, I'm the only one who's keeping you from a party favor suicide?"

"Yes, yes you are," she laughed, as they both stopped, off to the side on the dance floor.  Oh.  Oh, they were really going to dance.  She hadn't exactly thought ahead with this one.  Jess had been cute, offering to be her rescuer, so she had accepted.  Now he really was going to pull her close, loop his arms around her back, and she'd be able to smell his cologne.

One of her elaborate fantasies come to life:  A slow song played, but it was only background noise as she rested her chin on his shoulder.  Fingertips on the small of her back, chest to chest, legs bumping, and body heat, his, finally alleviating the cold.  Now there was only a sensation left behind, slowly flowing through her body, leaving her dazed and relaxed, and god, it was like her entire body was melting.

She sighed, allowing herself to lean completely against him.  If she could, she'd breathe him in.  When he remained silent, she became nervous.  She needed something, anything to break this spell.  Why couldn't he crack some kind of joke?  Mock a student, the Algebra teacher who was now trying to break the record for most baked goods consumed in one minute… hell, she'd settle for Jess making fun of her.  She needed a distraction, anything would do…  He was puling away from her slightly, so he could look her in the face.  At first she thought maybe he would say something, her wish granted, but then her eyes traveled to his lips, and all thought process stopped.  

It was she who moved forward first, even though she'd most likely deny this later.  One moment, each second slowing, and she felt it all, frame by frame:  eyes fluttering, head dipping, hands warm on her back, and his mouth, contact, barely a butterfly kiss, and then a shrill voice (her distraction—slightly late) interrupting.

"Rory!"

Her head snapped back at the sound of her name, heart beating considerably faster, and a crazed kind of panic filling her body.  She turned, relieved somehow that this irritating redhead had stopped this before she had really done anything wrong.  Regret, however, flitted through, a momentary emotion that she chose to ignore.

"Annabelle?"  Rory asked.

"Rory, you're supposed to be chaperoning, not making out with your boyfriend."

"But I'm not… he's not…"

"No buts!  I need you to go in to the girl's bathroom.  Beth is crying her eyes out, and well, you're the youngest chaperone here, so you'll probably be able to help her out, okay?"

"But…"

"You can see your boyfriend later, now get to it!"  

Rory turned back to Jess, trying to figure out what he was thinking.  His expression was unreadable.  "Jess…"

"Blah, blah, she loves you, she'll see you later, but now she has to go," and with that Annabelle grabbed Rory's arm and dragged her over to the lavatory.  "Her name's Beth and she's the crying girl in the _blue_ dress.  The purple dress wants to be alone, so I wouldn't ask her what's wrong.  And the red dress is absolutely schizo, so I wouldn't bother her either, alright?"  

"Um, alright…"  Rory tried, but she was already pushed into the bathroom, the music growing quiet as the door shut behind her.

She took a breath, mind reeling from the _almost_, the _maybe,_ and began her search for Beth.

-*-

Rory stood there, frozen, staring at the door.  A non-intimidating, wooden door that she should have been knocking on instead of gaping at.  How in the world had she gotten herself there?  _Why was she there?  Oh, right, the dance had ended without her seeing him again, and somehow, she had convinced herself to come to his apartment to see him.  To finally, finally tell him.  It was becoming quite obvious that she wouldn't last much longer around him, and it was a hope that if he knew he couldn't have her, then he wouldn't let it go any further.  Right:  Letting go.  This was what she was doing.  Remembering—the dance, the two of them—and letting go.  She could do this, she could tell him.  It was easy; she had a fiancée waiting for her in the city.  Don't think about how he'll react, just don't think.  She knocked on the door, held her breath, and waited.  _

It was all about waiting, wasn't it?


	9. My Immortal

**A/N**:  To Marissa and Julia and all my wonderful reviewers.  Thanks for the feedback, and thanks for reading.  After this chapter, three remain.

**Chapter Nine**:  My Immortal

Light spilled out onto the open doorway, and she froze, caught in the spotlight.  At the sight of his face, her confidence shattered.  The pieces tore through her, mercilessly slicing the interior of her stomach.  Inside, she began to cry, although she couldn't pinpoint all the reasons why.  There was the pain, and fear, and the unnerving knowledge that tonight, she would close a chapter in her life — one she thought she had finished with a long time ago. 

Her tears clouded her head, spilling over the words of her carefully constructed speech of The Truth.  The ink smudged, then ran together, blurring sentences she didn't want to utter in the first place.  Now her safety was gone, sitting in a black puddle.  Her head was empty except for the muddled mess, and she didn't have a Plan B, so all she could do was follow him inside.

Greetings were mumbled, she was almost sure, before he gestured for her to follow him into the kitchen.  The obvious question (_What are you doing here?_) was never spoken out loud, and she wondered if maybe he already knew.  Did he suspect that she had something important to share?  A secret she wanted to divulge?  Looking back on the past two days, she couldn't see a sign that would point to a secret fiancée, or anything related to such a subject.  But Jess was smart, perceptive, and perhaps his senses were even more in tune now than years earlier.

They had to pass through his living room, and the scene planted curious thoughts inside her head.  They didn't register at first, not with the haze that hung around her, so they lingered in her unconscious waiting to spring up and make things worse.  They bided their time while the pair entered the kitchen.

He leaned against the counter while she stopped just before the table, her hand resting on the back of a chair.  She didn't want to sit, even though it guaranteed she wouldn't make a fast getaway with such an obstacle in her way.  Instead, her grip tightened, and the edges of the wood dug into her palm.  She wished they were sharper, so she could feel real pain.  Anything that would numb the turmoil that raged inside her… anything that would distract from what was to come.

It hurt.  She admitted it.  While she loved Sam, tonight wasn't going to be an easy task.  She loved Jess too.  It was as simple as that; it was unfinished business from years ago, and she couldn't just sweep the feelings away.  They had been hidden, buried beneath new emotions for a new man, but now they were crawling out, breaking the surface, and she couldn't squash them any longer.

But she couldn't remember what she had rehearsed, standing on his doorstep.  Delicate words chosen to explain her lies, to destroy the past and move on with her life… gone.  She had to think on her feet, recall how she wanted to put this, all while quelling her desire to run away.  He looked at her expectantly from his perch across the room, and she glanced down at the kitchen table to avoid his gaze.  She cleared her mind of the remaining noise, hoping something, anything would fly in to help her along.

The thoughts from earlier popped up.  The living room.  His kitchen.  This was Jess's apartment.  This was where he lived.  He woke up here everyday, and at night, this was where he slept.  After work, he entered through the front door, dropped his jacket onto the couch, and made himself a meal.  She could see him clearly, standing in front of the counter, checking the cabinets.  He would boil water, pull out a box of Ziti, and open a can of tomato sauce.  He'd pour himself a drink, and place one plate on the table, while she was miles away, setting her table for two.

She wanted to stand behind him while he poured the contents of the box inside the pot, and watch small drops of water splash through the air.  She would stir the tomato sauce, his hands on her hips, his chin on her shoulder, and a careful eye making sure she was doing it correctly.  Maybe she'd burn the sauce.  Maybe he'd kiss her neck.  

Her heart cracked open.  She found that anything she looked at would spark a fantasy, so she forced her eyes to land on him, hoping that actually seeing _him_ would suppress them.  But she was curious… she wanted too see more of his home, of his life.  This apartment was another piece of the puzzle that would explain to her who he was now.  He wasn't Jess from years before — not completely.  There were subtle changes that so far, only her unconscious had picked up on, but she still felt it.  And she wanted to get to know this new Jess.  Even though once the weekend was over, she'd never see him again.

"Can I have a tour?"  She blurted out.

He didn't even bother to mask his surprise.  "A tour?  Of the apartment?"  She nodded.  "There's not much to see."

"Then it'll be a quick tour."

He shrugged.  "Okay, follow me…"  She followed him through the doorway they had previously walked through.

"The living room," he announced, waving his arms with flourish.  

She moved past him, farther into the room, and turned in a circle, trying to take it all in.  It was small and simple:  a couch, a coffee table, and a bookcase, overflowing with novels.  She stepped closer, and ran her fingers over the bindings.  She recognized almost all of the titles, but didn't see any that belonged to her.  All of them appeared to be from his own collection.  A nagging feeling began to tug at her heartstrings, but she ignored it as she headed toward the center of the room.  No pictures lined the table or the walls.  There were no personal touches to offer her clues to the changes in him.  The tugging became worse.

They walked back through the kitchen, and she stopped by the stove.  This time, no fantasies took over her mind.  Instead, her eyes traveled all over the cabinets and appliances.  Only the bare necessities were present:  stove, sink, refrigerator, and table.

The kitchen spilled right into his bedroom, with only a closed door to separate the two.  Inside, there were more books cluttering up his bureau.  An alarm clock rested on his nightstand table which stood next to the bed.  Every item seemed to be the generic kind, bought by someone who wasn't in touch with who Jess was.  When had this furniture been purchased?  Had Luke done it?  Perhaps Jess had picked it out when his memory was still too fuzzy.  This place had to have been designed at the time when he had forgotten who he was; it showed.

Still, she wandered all over his bedroom, searching for something she couldn't place.  It wasn't on the bed, on his bureau, on the table.  It hadn't been in the bookshelves, on the couch, on the stove, inside a drawer.  It simply wasn't there, and it made her chest ache.  No matter where she looked, she couldn't find a trace of herself.  

She knew it was ridiculous to think a part of her would be lurking behind a corner, but it still hurt.  Their past wasn't anywhere; the only familiarity from years before were the books that lined the bookcase.  That was the only evidence that proved that this was Jess's apartment.  The rest was part of his new life — one that didn't include her.  She wasn't anywhere here, couldn't be.  She had her own life in New York, and she knew that if Jess was to search her apartment high and low… he wouldn't be there either.

This was how it was, and this was it would be.  The past was the past, buried beneath new furniture and hopes for the future.  Jess didn't exist in her happy corner of the world in the city, not with the new man in her life, and the job that she loved.  It had taken her five years to build what she had today, and silly her had forgotten to insert a part of Jess into it.  Books, pictures, any memorabilia was stuck back in Stars Hollow, trapped in an unsealed book that she was already erasing from her mind.

Even though she had done it herself, it still caused a shudder to course through her that Jess had done the same.  Up until a couple of months ago, he hadn't even remembered who she was, but he had been fine.  He had survived life without her, and would continue to do so.  She'd leave, and he'd be left here, ready to turn a new leaf and begin the next part of his life.  After five years of suspended animation, it was time for him to start anew, and she couldn't be holding onto the past while he did it.  She didn't need him, and he didn't need her.  Take a look around!  The message was painted all over the apartment walls.  

She had functioned without him for the past five years.  Just because he was here now didn't mean she couldn't keep living her life without him.  Right?

Numb, she followed him back inside the kitchen.  Had he spoken during this tour?  Had he pointed certain things out to her?  She couldn't remember now, couldn't think.  She stood dumbly in the center of the room while he went back to his perch against the counter.  Still no words about the truth resurfaced in her mind, so she just started at a fixed point, patiently waiting.  Her vision blurred, and she blinked rapidly, turning to face him.

It seemed as if he was tired of waiting for her to speak.  He arched an eyebrow.  "Are you okay?"

"No," she answered automatically.  "I…"  

God, where were her words?  Where was her coherent thinking?  She needed to get a grip on her emotions.  Her exhaustion and confusion were catching up with her.  She couldn't decipher the black mess in her mind, and a part of her didn't even want to.  She wanted to hold on just a little longer because it'd all be over soon.

"I'm still not used to seeing you awake," she admitted.  The confession slipped out of her mouth, the only clear thought in her head.  It hung in the air between them before it even registered fully in her mind.  She wondered where she was going with this, but at least she had bought herself some time.

"It's just so weird seeing your eyes open, and you… standing there.  You were never supposed to wake up."

He flinched and shifted positions, and she almost regretted her words.  Maybe this was some warped version of the truth — maybe she needed to get this off of her chest first.  Then, she could go into Sam and New York.  Of course… first, she needed to explain about him and the past.  Then, she'd move into the now and the future.

"I remember when my mom called and told me.  I was sitting on the bus stop bench, trying to talk myself into going to Luke's."

"The day after that fight," he commented.

"The night before, I was going to call you.  I dialed your number a dozen times.  I should have called you."

"It wouldn't have changed anything."

"I think it would have changed everything."  She paused.  "I'm sorry I didn't call."

"I can't believe you're apologizing for that."  She didn't respond.  "So, you never made it into Luke's?"

"Nope.  I sat there and waited for the next bus," she explained.  "Then, I sat in the waiting room for hours before the doctor finally came out and explained to us what was going on.  He used all those big medical words, and my mom kept telling him to speak English."

"Sounds like Lorelai."

"I remember first walking in to see you.  I can't believe how much blood you lost... oh god, I'm sorry, you don't want to hear this."

"No, I… I think I do."

She took a few steps forward, almost uncomfortable with her choice of topic.  However, her instinct kept urging her on.  She needed to talk about this.  He needed to hear it.

"You didn't look like yourself."

"I know.  A lot of cuts and bruises.  I've seen pictures."

She cringed.  Her voice became unnaturally quiet.  "Yeah."  She could still see the image in her head.  It was vivid and colorful, and seemed almost tangible when she closed her eyes.  "It healed really well.  Almost like it never happened."  She took another few steps forward, so that she now stood directly in front of him.  "You still have a scar."

"It's small.  Most people don't even notice it."

"I do."  She reached out and carefully traced the thin scar with her thumb.  Her heart fluttered in her chest as his eyes followed her hand.  Without realizing it, the action made her move a step closer.  She kept her gaze on his left cheek.  "For everything that happened, I always thought it should be bigger."

She began to draw away, when he reached up to stop her.  His hand landed on hers, before it slipped down so that he gripped her wrist in a loose hold.  She met his gaze, and held her breath.  

"I'm glad you're okay," she said.  "I'm glad you're here."

Instead of an answer, he leaned forward.  Just before he reached her lips, he froze.  "I am too," he agreed before closing the final gap.

The dizzy sensation was back.  It was startlingly similar to the one she had first experienced years ago in the hospital on that very first night.  The world seemed to sway, so she couldn't stand straight, and her head swam giving everything a dreamlike feel to it.  At this moment, she felt more like a bystander watching this scene unfold in front of her, and it was for mostly this reason that she was convinced this wasn't really happening.  Any second now, the man in front of her was going to fade away.  Then she would wake up in New York, her fingers on her lips, wondering why she never visited him anymore.

Then she felt a jolt, an unforgiving yank back into her body, and she was against him, chest to chest.  She could feel his hand on her face, warm and strong.  He moved it forward and pushed a few strands of her hair behind her ear, before moving it down the side of her neck.  A trail of heat was left in its wake, as his hand continued down this path of her shoulder and then the side of her arm.  It was done lightly, a feather touch that she felt all over.  Tingles sprang up in her stomach and prickled her back, and she was certain she had just shivered.  His hand finally settled on the small of her back and lingered there as the kiss deepened.

She had initiated this, and a part of her knew it.  She could try all she wanted to throw the blame on Jess.  He had moved forward first, he had kissed _her_.  But what about the prom?  The dance they shared as she moved steadily closer, her lips just brushing his.  That had been her doing.  She had started it, and apparently, he would end it.  And maybe, just maybe, this was what she had wanted all along.  She had decided that she needed to tell him the truth, but perhaps it had all been some kind of twisted ploy to see him.  Walking there with the hope that he would make the first move — and he had.  Now there they were, kissing in his kitchen.  If someone were to ask Rory about Sam now, she'd probably answer with the narrowing of her eyes and a blank expression.  Sam who?

He tasted like yesterday.  It was a peculiar thought, but it was the only fitting way to describe it.  He tasted like stolen moments, lost years, tears that remained unshed because she tried to be strong.  It stirred up images in her mind, snapshots of memories long forgotten.  Ones she had pushed away, deeming them lost, a part of a different time of her life.  She saw the apartment above the diner, when it had appeared much larger despite the pile of boxes cluttering up his side of the room.  She remembered walking through there, a lump in her throat as she sat on his bed.  She had grabbed a book off of his nightstand table, and placed it in her lap.  After minutes of hesitation, she had opened it up and surveyed his handwriting that decorated almost every page.  Then had come the fear that the ink would fade.  His words would disappear, and his memory would be lost.  All evidence of the two of them together would seep into pages that she'd never read again.  

He pulled away, and her mind screamed no (for all the wrong reasons).  She hated the loss of contact, and she bit her lip, trying to savor the bittersweet taste of years ago.  His hand remained in place on her back, and she made no move to step away.  He was waiting.  For what, she was unsure.  Maybe for her to say something, explain why she was there or perhaps he wanted her to close the gap between them.  He wanted to know if this was what she really wanted.

This was her chance!  Tell him!  Confess!  His name was Sam, and Jess needed to know!  But Rory could see it unfolding in her mind's eye.  Explaining she was engaged to the most amazing guy.  That she was so sorry for not telling him sooner, but she couldn't find the right moment (lie), and she hadn't expected anything to happen between the two of them (another lie), and then Jess would take a step back, away from her, away from them, tears forming, her body regretting and, and…

"I'm sorry," she said.  "I am so sorry."

She moved forward once again, crashing her lips to his, and doing her best not to look back.  He walked forward, and she tripped backwards until they hit the opposite wall.  Her hands rested on his shoulders, and she couldn't fight the feeling that this wasn't good enough; they weren't close enough.  Immediately, she wandered lower, until her palms were on the hem of his shirt.  As quick as she could, she pulled it over his head, breaking the kiss for only a fraction of a second.  She pressed against him, and sighed at the feel of his warm skin.  Her fingers traced the contours of his back. 

She had done this before, the two of them, but tonight, it felt new and exciting.  She was re-exploring him, trying to remember what touch would drive him crazy, and wondering if her body would still fit perfectly against his.  Each taste, each feel was another piece of the puzzle falling into place, and she devoured it all at once, eager to know him again.  A small spark of hope whispered that maybe she was the final piece; maybe she still fit somewhere in his life.  

He began to walk again, backwards this time, leading her to the bedroom.  He bumped against the closed door, and the force startled her.  She pulled away and kissed his throat, while he reached behind himself, searching for the doorknob.  For a moment, entry into the room was forgotten as her lips burned his skin, moving steadily across his neck.  Finally, her tongue found his pulse, and it was the last bit she needed.  He was breathing, he was alive, he was _real_.  

The door burst open, and the pair stumbled inside.  


	10. When the Stars Fall

**A/N**:  Happy one year to this fic.  Two chapters remain.  Thanks so very much for the feedback, and for sticking with me.  To Marissa and Julia, two of my favorite people.  Also, here's hoping that if I update, Rebekah will too.  ;)  

**Chapter Ten**:  When the Stars Fall

The unfamiliarity of her surroundings had sunk in as she slept, spreading through her body, and coming to rest within her chest.  A small knot formed, tightening around her heart, until it startled her awake.  Rory sat up in bed, gasping for breath, as she clutched the sheets close to her body.  Several seconds passed as she wheezed, nearly choking.  She struggled to take an even breath, her fingernails digging into her palms.  She squeezed her eyes shut, the total darkness almost a comfort, and inhaled deeply.  Slowly, she exhaled, feeling the effort become easier.  As her panic subsided, she glanced down at her hands.  Red crescent moons had formed where she had pressed too hard.  She looked away.

Outside, the sun was beginning to rise, sending a dim light through the window.  The shade partially blocked it, allowing only broken pieces of sunlight to filter into the room.  She used it to her advantage, trying to let her eyes adjust, so she could view her surroundings.  Shadows gradually took shape as their blurred edges became more defined.  A bureau loomed ahead of her, directly across from the bed, and she watched as the last of the darkness gave way to reveal a pile of books resting on its surface.

At the sight of them, her heart stopped.

She couldn't move as the feeling seized her body, an unfamiliar poison that turned her arms and legs into bags of sand.  She fell fast, sinking into the dark.  The panic from earlier came back threefold, slipping in through the space between her ribs, and attacking her from the inside.  Scenes from the night before danced in her head, snapshots of him inside her, his mouth on her neck, her hands on his back.  Memories of her hope, and love, her relief, and confusion.  Memories of her lies, her betrayal.  Movement was impossible as the night before helped to weigh her down, and before she knew it, she had hit the surface; she drowned.

It wasn't enough though; not a good enough punishment.  Not with him lying in bed next to her.  She felt a shiver slice through her, several cutting across her back.  As numb as she was, she still felt the heat from his fingertips on her skin.  She turned her head, and saw his brown eyes staring back up at her.

"Hey," he said simply.

"Hey," she choked.

She faced forward, overwhelmed and terrified, before twisting her body away from him, and getting out of bed.  As soon as her feet hit the ground, she was quick to look for her clothes.  Shy and ashamed, she wanted to hide her body from him.  It was another infidelity, letting him see her like this.  That was a privilege that only Sam was supposed to have.

Her underwear was close, and quickly, she pulled it on.  Inches away lay her bra, and gratefully, she scooped it up.  Behind her, he was moving.  She heard the sheets rustling, and the mattress squeaking as his weight left it.  She put her bra on fast, reaching behind herself to clasp it in the back.  A strap slipped off her shoulder, but she ignored it, looking for the rest of her outfit.

She walked around to the front of the bed, stopping in front of his bureau.  She was about to lean down to pick up her shirt, when she felt him behind her.  His hand grazed her arm, as he pulled her strap back to its rightful position.  He lingered there, touching her, reminding her of what she had done wrong, and how anything she did with him now, no matter how innocent, was another betrayal.  The guilt she felt slid up her throat, taking hold of her vocal cords.  It settled within her mouth, and she allowed it to speak for her, hoping maybe it could somehow fix this.

"Please don't touch me," she said, her voice hushed.  

As soon as the words had left her mouth, his hand was yanked back.  She turned to look at him; his eyes were wide, but there were no other physical clues to give him away.  His mouth was a thin line, calm and waiting.  His hand hung awkwardly by his side, now unsure what to do.  

"Last night… was a mistake," she explained, the ache inside her worsening.  "I didn't come over here for… for that," she said, eyes falling on the bed.

His expression didn't change; he didn't even move.  His coolness unnerved her, but she went on, knowing that she needed to finish this.  

"Jess, I'm seeing someone." 

He took a step back, as if he expected her words, as if he had foreseen all of this.  His head dipped down, then quickly, he looked back up, and met her gaze.  "I need to go get ready," he said.  "I've got work.  You can let yourself out?"  

His last statement was barely a question that required no response, as he turned and headed for the bathroom.  The door closed quietly behind him, a gentle click signaling the lock.  She stood, frozen for several seconds, before walking over to the door, and resting her head against it.  She wanted to call out to him, beg him to let her explain, but the guilt blocked her voice, forcing her to remember his calm indifference to her confession.

The shower turned on, the sound muffled and distant, and she began to cry.

-*-

By the time she arrived home, her tears had dried on her cheeks, leaving her skin feeling stretched too tightly across the bone.  She entered the house quietly, the knot in her throat urging her to hurry to her room.  Any second now, she would begin to cry again, and this time, she wasn't so sure she'd be able to stop.  

She walked into the living room, her eyes skimming over her mother's sleeping form on the couch, and continued into her bedroom.  She stopped in front of her nightstand table, but found its surface empty.  She hurried over to her bureau, but it wasn't there either.  Her gaze swept over the floor, searching for her clothes from the day before, praying she would find it inside one of her pockets.  Finally, she dropped to the ground, and reached beneath her bed, but came up empty-handed.  It wasn't here. 

The dam broke then, blurring her vision.  She stood up, her stance shaky, and she fell back into a sitting position on her bed.  She buried her face into her hands, trying to get the rest of her tears out.  She needed to calm down, clear her head, and think of what was going to happen.  But she felt so lost.  She couldn't picture herself beyond this room; what was she going to do?

"I thought I heard you," Lorelai's sleep filled voice traveled in from the doorway, causing Rory to pick up her head.  One look at her daughter's face had her flying into the room, sitting down next to her.  "Sweetie, what happened?"  The question jumped out of her mouth even though she was certain she already knew.

It took several moments for Rory to regain some degree of composure.  Her shoulders finally stilled, and the rush of tears slowed, only a few leaking out now.  "I shouldn't have come here this weekend.  I was stupid to come," she said.  "But I wanted to see him…"

"Of course you did.  It's been such a long time.  It was right for you to come."

"No," Rory insisted.  "I should have stayed away.  Why come back?  I have a life in New York."

"You have a life here too."

"Not with him," Rory whispered.  She was silent for a moment, leaving her head on her mother's shoulder, enjoying the comfort.  Tell her, her mind said.  Tell her, and she'll tell know what to do.

"What happened?"  Lorelai asked again, her voice gentle.

"I slept with him."  

The full force of her actions hit her as she heard the words out loud.  It was one thing to hear it over and over in her head, but now, with a confession, she saw her future.  She would have to tell Sam.  She'd never be able to live with herself if she kept it a secret.  He'd never forgive her, not for something like this only a few days after he had proposed.  She thought back to earlier that week, him down on one knee in front of her.  He wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.  And look what she had done.

"I couldn't… I just wanted…"  

Her thought process was off.  She didn't know how to explain this to anyone.  She didn't even know how to think of all this herself.  She was in love Sam; she wanted to marry him.  But she missed Jess.  He had caused a deep ache in her, a throbbing kind of loneliness that Sam had never been able to help.  But she had buried it, lived with it, and done her best to get past it.  But he had come back.  And now she wasn't so sure she what she had was really what she wanted.

"I love Sam," she said suddenly.  "I do, I swear.  He's been there for me for so long… he's everything."  She paused, disgusted with herself.  "He asked me to marry him.  He asked me, and I said yes, and he gave me this beautiful ring, one that I wouldn't even wear, and now I can't find it, and--"

"I have the ring," Lorelai spoke up, happy to find something she could help her daughter with.  "I found it last night.  I wanted to ask you about it, but I never got a chance to."

Relief flooded through her veins, doing little to thin out the guilt.  "You do?  You know exactly where it is, right now?"

Lorelai stood, pulling Rory's arm so that she would follow.  She led her into the living room, over by the door.  She pulled the ring out of the hanging coat's pocket, and presented Rory with it.  She took it, holding it delicately, afraid it would break apart in her hands.  She slid it onto her finger, and studied it closely; it felt heavy and unnatural.  She hadn't worn it enough to feel its permanence.  She had hid it; she had hid him.

"I don't know what to do," she said softly.  "I don't know how to fix this."

Her mother remained silent, but Rory could almost hear her response inside her head:

_You can't_.

-*-

She sat on the couch, staring at the blank television screen, hoping that if she looked long enough, she'd find a solution in its black depths.  It was afternoon now, the day having passed with an agonizing slowness, as she showered and changed with the distant hope that she could simply cleanse herself of the night before.  A desperate kind of weariness had overtaken her, but she knew sleep would never come.  She hadn't even tried.

Every so often, she would glance down at her left hand, at her ring that now sat in its rightful place.  The more she stared at it, the more she wondered how she could have ever taken it off in the first place.  If she had just left it on, none of this would have ever happened.  She wouldn't be certain that her relationship with Sam was over, and that she had ruined things with Jess.  The worst part was she wasn't so sure she completely regretted it.  The guilt still held strong, assuring her that what she had done was wrong, but despite this, a small, secret part of her was reveling in the leftover emotions from having sex with him.

She didn't think she could ever completely regret it.  Not after years of longing and waiting.  Something like this was inevitable; this was something she had needed.  She almost wanted it to have cured her of him, a finalizing action:  they had reunited, and now they could both move on.  But she didn't _want_ to move on.  The idea of pushing him out of her life forever terrified her.  She was losing him all over again.

And it killed her that she had hurt him.  He had trusted her to be honest with him; to stop what was happening if it was wrong.  But she hadn't.  She had given in to what she wanted, what she needed, and look where it had gotten her.  She had hurt them both.

She needed to talk to Sam, although she had no idea what she was going to say.  She couldn't call; this was a face to face matter.  But she couldn't go back to New York, not yet — not without talking to Jess first.  But every time she thought about earlier that morning, any kind of confidence she mustered up evaporated.  She was stuck — hiding inside her house, terrified of what the next hour would bring.

A knock at the door snapped her out of her stupor, and she jumped up, surprised.  The back of her neck tingled at the thought of who could be out there.  Maybe Jess had decided to seek her out.  Maybe he wanted to talk to her.  Maybe he'd listen.

She opened the front door, and nearly slammed it shut at the sight of Sam standing before her.  He smiled at her, voicing a hello as he pulled her toward him.  Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shirt.  She breathed in his cologne, and was rewarded a momentary reprieve from the emotions that raged inside her.  His lips brushed her ear as he pulled away, sending a rush of warmth down the side of her face.  He met her eyes then, a smile still on his face, and her lungs collapsed from the weight.

She pulled at his elbow, wanting him to hold her close again.  He leaned forward, lightly touching her face, and kissed her.  For a few more seconds, she was able to forget, pretend that this was just another day for the two of them.  She took a step back into the house, taking him with her, and her mind traveled to days earlier — accepting his proposal; being carried off into the bedroom.  Abruptly, she ended their connection, turning away from him to shut the door.  Guilt was beginning to seep into him now.  His touch wasn't going to save her.

"What are you doing here?"  She asked, finding she couldn't quite meet his eyes.

"I told you I'd try to make it up today.  I called your cell yesterday, but no one answered.  I left a message."  

She remembered the day before, lying on the couch after having gone through her Jess Box.  Maybe if she had answered the phone, allowing his voice to fill her head, reminding her that he wasn't so far away… maybe she never would have done anything wrong.  Maybe it would have given her the confidence she needed to confess. 

"I'm glad you're here."  She hoped she wasn't spouting off another lie.  She could no longer tell what was true.

He leaned forward again, surprising her.  He pushed her back against the door, deepening the kiss.  This time, there was no comfort, only a desperate pain that screamed inside her head.  She quickly broke the kiss, fearful that he could taste her remorse.  His mouth moved to her jawbone, and then her neck.

"You know of all the stories you told me about this place," he began, his breath tickling her ear, "You never told me the most important thing."  Her eyes widened, her mind jumping to hurtful conclusions, but he continued, "Your address."

Now that she thought of it, she never had.  Sam had never been to Stars Hollow.

"The people here are very protective of you," he explained, "I had to answer some strange personal questions about you just to get your road.  I had to tell the woman I was your fiancée, and supply photo evidence to get your house number."

Her body stiffened against his.  Immediately, he pulled back, "What's wrong?"

"Who did you ask?"

"Some dance teacher… I think her name was Miss--"

"Patty?"  She interrupted, her eyes wide.

 "Yeah.  Rory, what's wrong?  You look…"

Everybody knew by now.  In the time that it had taken for Sam to drive over here, the gossip would have spread all over.  Her engagement would be big news; it would be the topic to discuss.  Everybody had to know.  _Everybody_.

"No one really knew yet," she said.  "No one but my mom."  He looked crestfallen at this; she had kept them a secret?  "You don't understand… the people in this town… they're going to flip," she rushed to explain, "They're going to make such a big deal out of this.  You know I hate the attention.  I'm sorry."  Oh god, she was sorry.

"No, no, I understand.  I'm sorry I ruined the surprise."

"It's fine," she assured him.  "Don't worry about it."  

But all she could do was worry.  She should have just told Jess the full truth that morning.  Now he was going to hear it from someone else.  

"Now when you say flip, do you mean that if we were to go outside right now, we'd get mobbed?"  

"Possibly.  The people here are unpredictable.  Staring, whispering, and pointing are guarantees though."

"Well, can we take the risk?"

"What risk?"

"Of being mobbed.  Because I'd love to grab some lunch, and for you to show me around."

She bit her lip to keep it from trembling, as she tried to picture herself walking through the town, her fiancée on her arm.  Under any other circumstances, this would be exciting.  Him and her, engaged, together, ready to spend the rest of their lives with each other.  But she couldn't imagine it with Sam so blissfully unaware, and herself sinking under the knowledge of what she had done.  But she wasn't so sure how she could refuse.  Any time they had discussed him coming to visit, she had promised to drag him everywhere and allow him to experience everything.  He really wanted to see it.  He wanted to understand this other part of her.

If she steered clear of the diner… they could have lunch at Al's, visit her mother at the inn… this could work…

They went out the door, and headed down the sidewalk.  He slipped his arm around her back, and she leaned into him, trying to ignore the discontent his touch was now causing.

As they walked, she pointed out certain sights to him, explaining the significance and history.  She detached herself from the surroundings, thinking about the town in a general, almost tourist like way, and found that this eased her tension.  Her muscles slowly relaxed as they moved deeper into Stars Hollow.

"I've counted six ceramic unicorn stores," Sam stage whispered, eyeing the shops.

"We used to have more."

"More?  Is there ever really a need for more than six ceramic unicorn stores?"  

"In this town… yes."

She gestured to the dance studio, explaining that that was where Miss Patty worked, all while trying to speed up their walk.  They had just passed it, when she heard a voice behind her, calling out her name.  Sam instinctively stopped, forcing her to do the same.  They turned around to face Miss Patty walking towards them.

"Rory, dear!  I haven't seen you at all this week."

"I've been busy catching up with Mom, and helping at the prom…"

"You went to the prom?"  Sam asked.  

"I was a chaperone."

"First sign you're getting old," he teased.  

"So, this must be your _fiancée_," Miss Patty said, over-enunciating the final word.  "It's so nice to hear that you're getting married!  I have to admit I was very surprised under the circumstances."

"Circumstances?"  Sam asked.

"Well, Rory hasn't been back in town since her graduation.  It's just surprising that her first time back here, she's engaged.  Funny how things work out."

"Hey, Sam, why don't you head off to lunch and grab us a table.  We'll go to Al's, you'll love it," Rory suggested, desperate to end this conversation.

He looked confused and uncertain, and she knew he had finally picked up on her mood.  He may still have been in the dark, but he knew something was going on.  He'd leave it alone, wait for her to approach him, but it was inevitable now.  This was the beginning of the end.

"Sure."  His smile had become forced; it unnerved her.  He nodded a farewell to Miss Patty, and turned the other way.

"How many people know about this?"  Rory asked.

"I only told Taylor… and Babette… and a couple of the dancer's mothers because they were inside when Sam arrived."

"So basically… the whole town," she muttered under her breath. 

"He's a good catch," Miss Patty said.  "You two look great together.  Congratulations, it's nice to see you happy and… moving on with your life."

Rory simply nodded and mumbled a goodbye, before heading back down the sidewalk.  She was just in time watch the remaining pieces of her life crumble as Sam waved at her before entering Luke's.  For several seconds, she felt rooted to the spot, positive she had to be seeing this wrong.  She had said Al's, he had agreed… that was the plan.  But this was her punishment, this slow torture gradually killing her.  This had to happen sooner or later.

She hurried inside and found Sam at a booth in the far corner.  A couple of the customers were staring, but no one had approached him.  Luke was at the cash register, and Caesar was just heading back into the kitchen — there was no sign of Jess.  

She slipped into the seat across from Sam.  He glanced over the top of his menu at her, his express calm but curious.  "Hope you don't mind I came in here, instead.  I had to try the so called 'best coffee ever' and then steal his recipe, so you'll like mine more."  

His tone was light, and she picked up on his teasing.  He seemed to have regained his happy attitude from before.  Maybe he would ignore what Miss Patty had said.  After all, it had been rather vague.  She was about to respond when she was interrupted by two mugs being place on the table in front of her.  She looked up to see Jess with a coffee pot in his hand. 

"Coffee?"  He asked, already pouring a cup for her.  Sam nodded, holding his up, and Jess obliged.  

"Hey, Jess," she said, before he had finished.  She didn't feel right ignoring him.  She couldn't pretend that she didn't know him.  After being without him for so long, she would never do that.

"Hey," he said back.  His tone was emotionless; it was an automatic response.  She pushed a piece of hair back behind her ear, fidgeting.  She figured he'd walk back behind the counter now.  But then, "Nice ring.  Have you been wearing that all week?"

She stared up at him, startled.  Nothing had changed in his face.  She hated this icy calmness he held up around her.  She almost wanted him to explode.   

"Typical guy," Sam laughed.  "We're not supposed to notice things like that.  Girls, on the other hand, have a built-in radar for these kinds of things."

"Right," Jess nodded.  "You must be Rory's fiancée."

"I'm Sam."  He stuck out his hand, and much to Rory's surprise, Jess shook it.

"Jess," he responded.

"You a friend of Rory's?"

"No, I just work here."  Jess turned back around and disappeared behind the curtain, leading to the upstairs.

"He's the least friendly person I've met today.  I like him," Sam said.

"Me too," she responded softly.  

She wanted to believe that he didn't care.  She wanted to pretend that all that was left was hate, bitter and overpowering.  But she knew that everything Jess did, everything he said was an act.  At first, this morning, she had almost believe that he could brush it aside that easily.  That it just had been meaningless sex with an ex-girlfriend.  But she remembered the night before, talking with him in the kitchen; the way he had kissed her…

She had hurt him deeply.  He was trying to save himself by acting as if it didn't matter.  But she knew.  And she couldn't sit here and eat lunch like this.  She needed to talk to him.

"I'll be right back.  I'm going to go use the bathroom," Rory excused herself, standing up.  Sam nodded, looking back down at the menu, not noticing her head up the apartment stairs.

She hesitated outside the door, wondering if she should knock, but in the end, she headed right in.  He stood in front of the kitchen table, his back to her.  She approached slowly, but she knew he heard her.

"Jess?"

He turned to face her.  "You up here to defend yourself?  You going to tell me you had that ring on all week?  I know you didn't because I checked when I first saw you."

"I--"

"And then I asked you about your life.  I figured you'd tell me if you were seeing someone.  I mean, a fiancée does fall into the category of how your life is, right?"

"I wanted to tell you--"

"Hey, don't worry about it.  It doesn't matter, I know now."

"I should have told you," She began.  "And last night…"

"Last night was a mistake, I remember.  But hey, it was good sex, so it wasn't a total loss, right?  Now, I need to get back to work…"  He walked forward toward the door, but she backed up at the same time.  She laid her back against it, blocking his exit.  He stood in front of her, close, his hand on the doorknob.

"I have work."

"I'm sorry.  Believe me, I am so--"

"Sorry?  Yeah, everyone's so sorry.  Everyone feels so bad.  I didn't need your guilt.  I just needed you to be honest with me."  He turned the knob and the door opened slightly before she pushed back against it, shutting it.

"I want to talk to you.  Jess, please," she begged, her voice cracking.  He wasn't letting her explain.  She needed to make him understand.  "I don't want to lose you again."

"Oh, come on, Rory.  When'd you ever really have me back?"

Her eyes widened, his question hitting her in the chest.  He was here, right in front of her, and she didn't have him.  He was as good as gone, lying comatose miles away.  He wasn't hers, never would be again.  Last night had been a brief interlude, a dashed hope that they both had had.  Then they had woken up to morning, to reality, in which he was lost, still trying to return to the natural flow of life, while she was already light years ahead of him with a life of her own.  

She took a step to the right, and allowed him to move past her and out the door.  His words stayed with her though, bringing with them a numbness that made her forget her guilt.  As the silence of the apartment settled around her, she breathed in deeply, waiting for nothing.


	11. Hallelujah

**A/N**:  I heart summer, don't you?  Chapter title is a song (the Jeff Buckley cover).  One chapter remains in the story after this one.  (Yes, I'm shocked too.)

To Marissa and Lia, two of my favorite people.

**Chapter Eleven**:  Hallelujah

They had thrown her a party.  She had no idea who had originally conceived the idea, although her mother and Luke had been struck from the list of possibilities.  Lorelai had assured her that the events had already been put into action before she had even caught wind of it.  But someone in town had decided that Rory Gilmore's engagement was a celebratory matter, and had rounded up her neighbors and friends and stuck them inside her living room.  Food and drink were carefully arranged on the coffee table and extra trays, all affectionately provided by Sookie.

And there was noise.  Her house was brimming with laughter and conversation and gossip.  People could not stop with the congratulations, spoken in overly cheery voices.  Everyone was just so, _so_, excited for her, proud of her for moving forward in her life.  It was all very delicately phrased, always walking on eggshells around her as if she were still eighteen and only a breath from breaking. 

To her, the whole experience felt fake and overstated.  She played along however, going through the motions, doing her best to ignore the artificial flavor.  She wondered if she was the only one who felt like this, if any of the townies had picked up on it.  They were trying hard, _too _hard, to make this an enjoyable night for her.  They were overcompensating.

She found herself hanging back in the kitchen, away from the din of the party.  Once in a while someone would amble in for a cold drink, smile and voice their best wishes before walking right back out.  For the most part though, she was left alone.  Sam had been roped in by Babette and Miss Patty to sit and lay out the course of his and Rory's relationship.  They wanted to know every detail, unsatisfied with the small tidbits they had been collecting since Rory had begun dating him. 

Without any kind of warning, a figure quite literally flew through the kitchen, made a sharp angle before he could slam into her, and ended up in her bedroom.  Rory stood, recognizing the familiar flash of light brown hair, and entered her room, shutting the door behind her.

"Sam?"

"I excused myself to use the bathroom."

"There's no bathroom on this side of the house.  Just my bedroom and the kitchen," she explained.

"Do they know that?"

"Who?"

"Your neighbor, Babette.  And Patty… the one with the grabby hands."

Rory inched further into her room, stopping just short of where Sam sat on her bed.  "Were they sexually harassing you?"

"Something like that.  They were asking a lot of questions.  I kept expecting them to shine some kind of bright light in my eyes."

"Well, were you compliant?  You shouldn't give them a reason to use force."

Sam reached out and grasped her hand, tugging her forward.  Hesitating for only a second, she allowed herself to be pulled into his lap.  She readjusted herself so she was kneeling on the bed, straddling him.  Sending a backwards glance to the door, she found it safe and securely shut as she left it.  Turning back to her fiancée, she leaned into him; he kissed her neck.  Exhaling, she tried to release the tension that had rolled up within her.  It stayed strong.

"I was very good.  I answered all their questions."

"All?"  Rory asked.

"All," he confirmed.  "Although I may have made a few things up."

"Like?"

"We first met after I saved you from your dorm.  It was on fire."

"Perfect," she rolled her eyes.

Instead of a response, he moved across her skin to the spot right beneath the curve of her jaw.  Absently, she let her hand wander into his hair.  Her eyes fluttered close, but she was immediately displeased with the images that danced on the other side.  Brown eyes, dark, darker than Sam's.  She recognized the fresh flow of guilt, hardening in her veins.  She did her best to ignore it.

Using her fingertips, she tilted his chin up, guiding him to face her.  See her.  She wanted to see him. 

"I've decided we're going to invite absolutely no one to the wedding," he said.

She smiled and leaned forward, kissing him.  Pulling away, she responded, "That seems unfair.  I don't get to invite anyone from my hometown?"

"I didn't mean that exactly," he kissed her again.  Once, twice.  "I meant no one would come, including my parents.  A big empty church."

"You have this all planned out," she commented.

"Are you kidding?  Little boys dream of their wedding from age six and on.  I'll be dressed as G.I. Joe, and you'll be in pink stilettos."

"As long as we have a plan."

His grin faltered slightly, as he cupped her cheek, running his thumb over her bottom lip.  "Are you okay tonight?"

She frowned, surprised at the sudden change.  "Of course, I am," she lied.  "Why?"

"You've been acting… I don't know, just strange."

"Oh, now this is actually the real me.  The town brings out my kookyness."

"Not kooky," he said.  "Just not yourself."

He knew her well, inside and out.  The only thing he _didn't_ know about was Jess, and that specific part of her life.  She had glazed over her senior year of high school when they had discussed their pasts.  He couldn't figure out the problem now, because he didn't have the key fact.  She wasn't ready to share.  She didn't know how.

"I'm fine," she assured him.  "I'm sorry."

"Maybe it really is the town.  I've never been here, it's different.  I've never seen you here, so…"  He paused, and gently tugged on a strand of her hair.  "I suppose, we should get back out there."

Again, she glanced back at the door, unhappy with his decision.  In here, sitting on his lap, the world didn't seem to spin quite as fast.  It was quieter, more relaxed.  If he kissed her long enough, maybe everything that lay outside this room would fall away, and she wouldn't have to worry anymore.  There would only be the two of them, isolated but happy.  It was how they had existed before, back in New York.

"I guess we should," she responded.

She slipped off his lap, and stood, keeping her hand entwined with his.  They both began to walk for the door, Sam a step behind her.

"You run funny," she commented.

"I was running for my life, don't poke fun." 

Quickly, he brushed his lips against her temple before opening the door and walking into the kitchen.  She hesitated, standing in the frame of her bedroom.

"Coming?"  Sam asked, looking over his shoulder.

"In a second," she replied.

He nodded and disappeared back into the noise, while she paused by the counter, leaning on the surface.  She blinked back tears, surprised by the sudden burst of emotion.  Her throat ached, throbbing with her refusal to let it out, and she took a deep breath, waiting.  It would pass, it would pass.  Rubbing her eyes, she glanced up and found Luke standing in the entrance of the kitchen.

"Hi, Luke," she said.  Her voice came out heavy and cracked.  If Luke picked up on it, he didn't say.

"Hey, Rory.  I just came in her to grab a drink for your mom," he gestured toward the refrigerator as if she needed a diagram to understand.  "But I also wanted to say congratulations, so, well… congratulations.  Sam seems like a nice guy."

"He is," she said.  "He really is."

"He's a lawyer, right?"

"He works at his dad's law firm," she confirmed.  "He's on his way to being one."

"Right.  Your mom told me that."

Rory nodded, uncomfortable.  A strain borne of years of avoidance and awkwardness permeated the air around them, making her desperate for his exit.  He could have been one of the few people to understand how she felt after the accident, but instead, she found herself shrugging away from him, the diner, the town.  She had the same urge to get away right now.  She looked back down at the counter, needing a place to rest her eyes.

"He's closing up tonight," Luke suddenly added.

"What?"  Her head shot up, startled.

"Jess closed so I could come tonight.  He said he'd stop by, but I think that was his way of getting me to stop asking questions, and leave."

"Oh."  Her mouth opened and closed, but at first, no words escaped.  "I wish he'd come.  I'm leaving tomorrow."

"Tomorrow night?"

"Uh, no, early.  Probably morning."

"You could stop by before…"

"If there's time," she answered, noncommittal.

Luke nodded as if he understood which, Rory was almost positive, he did.  He made a move to go back out sans drink for her mother, but she didn't point it out.  She wanted him gone.

"You were one of the first things he remembered."

"I'm… I'm sorry?"  Confusion appeared on her face.  She suppressed the immediate thought that he was referring to Jess, praying he couldn't mean that.  Why couldn't Luke just leave?

"His mom was first.  She kept coming up here to visit, and shoving photo albums in his face.  And one day it just kind of… clicked.  He kept remembering things about New York, asking about people he had known there and some of the pranks he pulled.  Then, he asked about you, if you had lived nearby."

"He thought I was from the city?"

"He didn't know where you were from.  He just remembered a lot about you.  And he assumed because he had lived in the city for so long that you…"

"My mom's waiting for her drink," Rory said, clenching her fists behind the cover of the counter.  "She'll start bugging you if you don't bring it in soon."

Breathe, breathe.  In out in.

Luke looked surprised for about half a second before he turned to the fridge and pulled out a beer.  He then went back into the living room without another word.

She turned and leaned back against the structure behind her.  Dutifully, it held her up as she wrapped her arms around her midsection, feeling the burn in her throat worsen.  He had thought she had been from the city.  He had thought he had known her for so much longer.  Oh god, he had remembered so much about her, he had just assumed that she had been a bigger part of his life than she actually had been.

It hurt.  This constant needle pushed further and further into her, immobilizing her.  Five years of suspended animation, and he woke up with a clean slate.  After replacing everything, doing his best to repair the cracks, he had still kept her, building her up in his mind.  The memories returned, the feelings didn't deplete, and he had asked about her.  She wondered what he asked, what Luke and Lorelai told him.  If he had seen pictures of her, gone through her books to see notes he didn't remember writing.  She wondered if he had missed her.

"Sweetie, is there any more ice in here?"

Rory spun around to find Babette standing only a couple of feet away.

"Ice?" Rory asked, blankly.

"Oh sugar, are you crying?"

"Wha – no.  I… we're out of ice?" 

"I think so," Babette said carefully, "I'll just ask Luke —"

"I'll get it," Rory interrupted. 

"No, no, I'm sure Luke won't mind.  I think it would be better if you —"

"I'll go run out.  Can you just tell my mom where I went?"  She turned and exited through the backdoor before Babette could answer.

----

Even though she had walked along the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street, on the path that would lead her to Doose's, she knew she would cross it.  It was ridiculous trying to convince herself that she had really gone out for ice, trying to be helpful.  She wanted to get away, and just _breathe_, but now that she was out here, so close to him, she had to see him.  Say something.  Tell him she was sorry.

The sign read closed even though it was at least an hour before the usual time.  But the streets were deserted, most of the townspeople either in her living room or their own at home.  She knocked on the glass, startling him from where he stood behind the counter, going through the receipts.  He frowned for a moment, before returning to his usual stoic stare.  He shrugged.  _Closed_, he was trying to tell her.  _We're closed_.

Again she knocked, defiant.  He dropped the scraps of papers he held in his hand, and headed toward her, stopping in front of the door.  He tapped the sign, and she knocked, feeling childish.  Finally, he pulled the keys out of his pocket, and unlocked the door.  Instead of opening it, he returned to his former position behind the counter.  She let herself in.

"We're out of ice," she declaredly blankly, somehow loosing the original thread of what she wanted to say.

"I'd try Doose's.  They actually sell bags of it.  Creative, I think."

"I wanted to talk to you first."  There, back on track.

"You don't have —"

"You didn't let me say what I wanted to.  You have to let me explain."

"You're engaged, Rory.  It's fine.  It's not as if I would have expected you to wait."

"It wasn't immediate.  I didn't meet him until a couple of years after.  And we were friends first.  There was only one other guy, but once again, that was in college, and a really bad experience."

"You don't have to explain your history to me.  It wasn't wrong."

"But it felt like it was!  Jess, we never… we never broke up."

Up until this point, he had been idly flipping through the receipts, looking up at her when he spoke.  But here he paused, setting everything down.

"We never really ended," she finished.  "It just… stopped, like we were put on hold.  I didn't know how to just… stop with you.  I wasn't supposed to."

"Rory…"

"You were gone for five years, but I wasn't.  I know that it's different, and I know you've been through hell, but you have to understand what it was like trying to… get past it.  You.  It was…" 

All her thoughts were finally drifting to the surface, fragments here and there, the words she wanted – needed – to say.  She was trying to piece it all together, to make him understand. 

"Rory," he tried again, coming around the counter.  He stopped a couple of feet away.

"I was in love with you," she stated, "and I don't know if that ever really went away."  She swallowed, feeling the familiar pressure behind her eyes.  "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about him."

"Where did you meet him?" Jess asked, surprising her.

She blinked.  What kind of question was that?

"You said you met him later… did you meet him in college?"

She nodded, not yet following.  "Yeah.  In Boston."

"Harvard," Jess clarified.

"Well, that is where —"  She cut herself off abruptly.  "Jess, no…"

"You wouldn't have met him if you had stuck to Yale.  And you would have stuck to Yale if I hadn't…"

"You can't do this, twist it around like this."

"Rory, it was me or him.  If we had stayed together, if nothing had happened, it would have been me.  You wouldn't know him now."

"Jess…"  But there were no words anymore, the flow was cut short.  She was left floundering, lost.  She could feel the sharp sting of tears slowly receding as they slipped down her face.

"We would have broken up.  You do know that?"

"What are you talking about?"

"We would have been over before you finished your freshman year," he explained.

"You can't say that… You can't know that!"

"Look, what I do know is that we are not together.  We haven't been in years.  But if you are so hell-bent on 'what if's' then you need to understand that we wouldn't have lasted.  We were not _meant _to last, Rory."

"I chose Yale for you, I wanted to stay close for _you_!  I thought we would.  I knew we would!"

Jess looked away from her, momentarily falling back against the counter, rubbing the back of his neck.  He glanced up at her, watching her cry.  "Have you told him yet?"

This question was a curveball so unexpected that for a second, she had no idea who or what he was referring to.  But then, "Sam?"

"Yeah.  Luke said you guys were having a party, and… You don't do well with guilt."

"No, I haven't."  She paused, eyeing Jess's reaction.  He wasn't giving too much off.  "I don't want to hurt him," she elaborated.

"Then don't."

She looked crestfallen, trying so desperately to hold herself together.  She studied the floor, deciding that maybe it was time to excuse herself and buy that ice.  She needed to get out of here.

Glancing up, she found Jess moving toward her.  He stopped, and gripped her upper arm with his left hand, allowing his right to touch her face.  He was slowly settling over her skin, cupping her cheek.

"We would have broken up.  There is nothing else to think of.  Either way, no matter what, we would not be together now."

"You don't know that," she repeated, her voice coming out muffled, laden with burnt out hope.  He didn't know, he _couldn't_ know.  For all she knew, right now, somewhere else, the two of them could still be together.  His ring on her finger, his bed that she shared at night.

He leaned forward and kissed her gently.  He felt like air, drifting, fading as fast as a memory.  He was barely there, barely tangible and real; he was as soft as a dream.  She felt him sifting through her fingers, scattered dust that left no impression.  He was so gone.

"There's nothing to know.  We are where we are," he said, pulling away.

And then she got it.  Standing in front of her, his breath on her face as he spoke, his hands, warm and strong on her shoulder, her neck… she remembered.  The two of them, in his kitchen, stumbling into the bedroom, falling onto the mattress.  The feelings came rushing back, tangled together, but there, nonetheless.  She had been suppressing this since she woke up this morning, drowning beneath the betrayal and guilt.  But here it was, dancing through her, tingles and memories all wrapped in one.  She pulled him to her, still remembering.  She wanted him to remember too.

This time, she made him real; skin, and lips, and taste.  He didn't protest when she pressed against him, leaning further, further.  Instead, he pulled her, his arms around her lower back, doing his best to hold on.

It was a saline kiss, the salt from her tears slipping through, almost bitter on her tongue.  She was trying to make this moment last, stretch on and on, so she wouldn't have to deal with the ramifications, the choices.  She didn't know what she was going to do.

Jess finally broke the kiss, but surprisingly, he didn't move away.  She leaned against him, her forehead resting on his, thinking of similar moments that were lost now.  She brought her hands to his chest, her fingers curling against the fabric of his shirt.  She waited.

"You need to go," he stated firmly.

She looked up at him and met his gaze.  Brown eyes, dark, darker than Sam's.

_Sam_.

She took a step back, touching her lips.  Looking away, she felt a new wave of tears wash over her.  It was a proverbial crack straight through her, tearing her apart.  She was in love with Sam, here and now, and ready for the future.  She was in love with Jess from high school, her past, her once upon a time.  The past and future were tugging at her from both directions, and she couldn't tell which was real, which was stronger.

He turned and headed for the apartment upstairs.  He was about to disappear.  She felt as if she should say something, reassure him.  Tell him the truth.

"I love you."

He froze at her words but didn't look back at her.  "You don't even know me anymore."

"You're still you," she said quietly.  "And I'm still me."

"It's been too long, Rory.  Just let it go."

He moved behind the curtain, and padded up the stairs.  She stayed still.

----

Rory stood in front of the sink, washing the dishes from dinner.  Distracted, she stared out at the window in front of her, her eyes resting on the brick wall of the adjacent apartment building.  She had been home for three days, but she had yet to slip back into the flow here.  Something felt off, different, and she knew it was her own fault.  She had been uncharacteristically quiet and rather avoidant of Sam.  He had picked up on her awkward behavior, but so far had been quiet about it. 

"Rory?"

His voice startled her, and thanks to her already absent mind, she paid no attention to what her hands were up to.  She dropped the plate she had been washing, and it shattered in the sink.

Sam looked down into the sink, quickly grabbing her hands to make sure she hadn't cut herself.  Turning over her soapy hands in his, he found her unscathed.

"Rory," he repeated. 

She slipped out of his grasp and washed off the soap in the sink.  She turned off the water and dried her hands, before looking back up at him.

"I guess we should talk," she finally said.

He nodded, and both sat down at the kitchen table. 

"What happened?"  He asked, if only to get the conversation started.  He didn't know if anything specific had happened, or if her feelings had simply… changed.  He just needed to know.

"You have to let me explain.  All of it.  Because, I swear, this had nothing to do with you, with – with doubting you, or how I felt about you, or my saying yes to you.  It was all bad timing, okay?  I swear."

"Rory…"  Oh god, he didn't like where this was headed.  He had thought maybe she had… but he couldn't…

"When I was in high school, I dated this guy.  I was in love with him and had that whole this-is-forever kind of feeling about him."

Sam opened his mouth to speak, but then faltered and let her continue.

"We never exactly broke up.  He was in an accident near the end of my senior year, and he ended up in the hospital.  He didn't wake up."

"Coma?"

Rory nodded, feeling the light brush of distant memories, the tendrils of pain grabbing at her.  "He woke up a few months ago, and my mom decided it was better that I didn't know.  But when I called home to tell her about us, about you proposing… he answered the phone.  I didn't… I mean, it was just hours after you asked, and he was _there_, on the phone."

"And," Sam said, prodding her.

"I slept with him."

Sam recoiled in his seat, shrugging away from her.

"I'm sorry, you don't know how sorry I am.  I just had to…"  She trailed off, unsure.  "It was like he died, and then suddenly, he was back.  Another chance.  He…  I'm sorry.  It was wrong, and I —"

"Give me the ring."

"Sam…"

"The ring, Rory."

She slipped it off her finger and dropped it into his outstretched hand.  "Do you want me to leave?"

"No, I just… I'm going out for awhile."

She didn't protest as he moved away, and walked out of the kitchen, and out the door.  She buried her face in her hands, and began to cry.

----

He came home later.  Much later.  Rory had draped herself across the couch, so he could have the bed.  Somehow, she guessed he wouldn't want to sleep next to her tonight.  She was awake when he arrived, but she stayed still, deciding to leave him alone for now.

Sam surprised her, however, when he kneeled down next to the sofa, trying to see if she was awake.  She opened her eyes.

"Do you love me?"

His question caught her off guard, but somehow, she should have guessed it.  "Yes.  I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

"Do you regret saying yes to me?" He asked.

"No." 

"Are you still in love with him?"

She closed her eyes again, wanting to hide.  "I… I don't know."

In the dark of the apartment, she could barely make out the features of his face.  He was staring down at his knees.  She wanted him to look up.

"A few days ago, there was no doubt.  From me or you.  But now…"  He sighed, and handed her the ring.  She took it, unsure of what to do.  "It's still yours if you want it.  But you can't be half in this, Rory.  You can't."

He stood up and disappeared into the bedroom.  She stared at the ring.


	12. Timeless

**Chapter Twelve**: Timeless

It wasn't until she boarded the bus that she noticed the slight quiver in her legs. When she sat down, it was more noticeable; her knees wouldn't stay still. Minutes into her trip, the sensation had spread to her calves, before slipping further down and settling in her toes. The shake was so violent that even her neighbor raised an eyebrow, asking if she was about to be sick. A curt nod and a mumbled "I'm fine" was enough to get the man to turn away. Rory, beginning to wonder if maybe nausea was the cause, hugged her knees to her chest, letting the soles of her feet hang over empty air.

Resting her head on the glass of the window, she watched New York fly by in a blur of people and buildings. The colors seemed to run together, leaving gray and dark blue streaks across the city. She closed her eyes, fearful of dizziness, trying to will her quaking body to rest. She struggled to blame the sensation on her hunger and lack of sleep, but she knew this was something entirely different.

The night before, she had lain awake on the couch, doing her best to sort out all that she felt. Doubt and certainty were entwined together, heavy and sharp on her lungs whenever she considered a decision. No pro and con lists had been written, and no elaborate fantasies of the future had been dreamt up. She didn't want to make this about the future, and by extension, she didn't want this to be about the past. Time could not factor into this, because the ideology of it muddled everything else up. But in the end, she knew, it was all about time. It was about how people changed, and doors closed, and how nothing ever really lasted. It couldn't.

What it all boiled down to was what was right, and what was wrong. No matter which way she spun it, she already knew what was _right_, and what she should do. The certainty and relief that were supposed to come with the conclusion, however, never arrived. Her mind was too clouded to deliver it.

Stepping off the bus in Stars Hollow, she ignored the déjà vu that immediately overwhelmed her. It was only a week ago that she had done the same thing, afraid and confused and full of anticipation. Today, her purpose was different, but she still felt very much the same way. It was almost as if nothing had changed.

She hurried through town without much of a thought to stop and say hello. Her destination was crystal clear in her mind, and she refused to get sidetracked. Thankfully, her legs had lost their rubber feeling, and she was able to hold herself up. Breathing erratically, she made her way down the side streets, and finally found his.

In no time, she was at his door, her hand poised over the wood. Seconds later, she had knocked, and he was standing in front of her.

"Hi." His voice came out in its normal pitch, but the surprise was evident in his expression.

"Hi," she replied. "Can I come in?"

He hesitated briefly, and she saw it. He didn't want to let her in.

"Please," she added. "I want to talk to you."

Jess took a step back, allowing her to enter. Behind her, he shut the door, and then looked at her expectantly. In return, she offered him a blank look; he bit back a sigh.

"Rory?"

"I wanted to see you," she said immediately, the words flying out of her mouth.

"You shouldn't have come."

"I had to. The last time we spoke didn't go the way I wanted."

"Things can't always go your way."

"I know that." God, did she know that. She wanted to lash out at him for even deigning to point that out, but at the last second, she refrained, taking a quick breath.

"Why are you here?" He sounded deflated, almost beaten down. It was painful for her to hear.

"Do you really believe we wouldn't have lasted?" She asked, once again taking him by surprise. "Why do you think that?"

"Rory, geez… we just…"

"Did you have no faith in our relationship? Is that what you thought while we were dating? Were you already picturing us breaking up? Even when I told you I loved you… when we were sleeping together?"

"That's not it at all, and you know it. Jesus, you're making it into something I was anticipating. I wasn't counting the days until it happened, I was just being realistic."

"Realistic? You're acting as if you were some fleeting high school crush. I was in love with you! Do you not get that?"

"When you went to college, everything would have changed. You would have went one way, I would have went another," he tried to explain.

"Jess, I wanted to be with you forever. When I thought of us, I saw it. I _knew_ it."

She felt the familiar crack within her, as her resolve broke. In her mind, she sensed the desolation and disappointment that came with his accident. It was the same raw hopelessness of missing him, and not knowing how to get around it. Back then, she didn't know, didn't _want_ to know, what it meant to be without him. She couldn't fathom it.

"We were eighteen."

"It didn't matter," she replied. "It was real." She paused, near tears. "But I don't know if it is anymore."

He stayed silent at this. She was crestfallen when he didn't jump to defend what they had, what he felt. With a dizzy step, she moved forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in. He returned the gesture, and she swallowed a sob, unable to speak as her eyes filled.

"I love you," she whispered, her lips nearly brushing his ear. "I'm sorry that that can't be enough."

She thought it was true; she wanted it to be. It was hard to discern the guilt and longing from love. She had to pick it apart, judging which was timeless, and which was part of the past, its strength only an illusion. After doing her best to sort it all out, she thought that maybe, even after a five year separation, she was still in love with him. And maybe, she always would be.

Too soon, he pulled away, reaching up to where her left hand rested on his cheek. He laid his over hers and gripped it, bringing it down to waist level. Their eyes followed the path, watching their hands; his still covering hers, his fingers playing with the diamond she wore. He twisted it to the side, as if studying it. She felt her heart grow heavy, sick with guilt at showing up today. But he knew, she reasoned. He had seen it as soon as he opened the door.

"It's a beautiful ring," he said finally, glancing back up at her.

"Thank you," her voice came out raspy, lined with the tears that still had not fallen. "He saved up for months. He wants to marry me, Jess."

"And you?"

Her response was delayed, hesitant to admit it. "I want to marry him too."

Jess gave a slight nod, still holding her hand, before promptly letting it go. She crossed her arms at her chest, hugging herself, trying to get through the rest of this visit.

"I think you should go," he stated.

"Are you upset?" She asked. "You're the one who was convinced we wouldn't last past high school. You're the one who said it's been too long."

"It has been. Five years is a long time, Rory. Time passes, and things change."

"I'm sorry."

"Why did you even come today? Was this your idea of closure? Last time was enough for me, thanks."

She flinched at the underlying bitterness. "I came to say goodbye."

"Fine. Goodbye, Rory."

"I don't even know how you feel," she said, desperate. "We may have talked, and had sex, and then you got mad at me for lying to you. But what does it mean? I just don't…" She cut herself off. "Goodbye, Jess."

Her voice was even, free of the anger and hurt she was feeling. She turned to head right back out the door, but he grabbed her arm, rooting her to the spot. He moved to match the angle she stood at, stopping in front of her. She refused to look him in the eye, not wanting to prolong this any further. But in the end, she met his gaze, and didn't protest when he leaned forward and kissed her.

"You know," he mumbled, pulling away a short distance, "or you wouldn't be here today."

He went to close the gap again, but she turned her head, so he only caught her cheek. To her surprise, he didn't move away, but instead drew his lips across her skin, landing just beneath her ear. He brought her closer, his arms secure around her waist. 

"I love you," he stated, for the first time in years. The words had a rustic quality to them, overused by her, but completely new for her to hear. Drawing them in, they felt warmer, petal soft. It caused a stirring within her chest, a slight breaking. It hurt.

"It can be enough," he added, worsening the sensation.

She took a hard step back, breaking the contact. Looking up at him, she suddenly felt foolish. Everything he had been saying, the way he was acting all stemmed from hurt, and an attempt to make this easier for her. He wanted her to move on, head back to the city and forget about him. He wanted her to bury the past. He loved her, of course he did! And now with it said out loud, she couldn't breathe, terrified of what would happen once she left today. She was at a loss.

"I'm just trying to do the right thing," she said.

"Then go."

She stared up at him, her arms stubbornly glued to her side, instead of reaching for the door. He ran a hand through his hair, unsure of how much more of this he could take.

"Goodbye, Rory." This time, he was gentle, trying to give her what she wanted. "I said it, okay? There's no need for you to come back."

She studied him a moment longer, a faint memory resurfacing, prodding the back of her mind. It seemed too faded, ripped at the edges, but then she remembered more clearly: watching him from the other side of the window, sitting on a bus in New York. She had followed him because he hadn't said goodbye. Standing here now, directly in front him, she couldn't tell if he was reflecting the past, or simply trying to get her out the door, and keep her from returning. Turning to go, she realized it didn't matter anymore.

"Bye, Jess."

----

He seemed relieved when he saw her, sitting at their kitchen table, a blank expression on her face. Coming home from work, he had almost expected an empty apartment.

"Rory?" Sam asked, coming to a stop in front of her. "I didn't think you'd be here… you left for work so early this morning…" He trailed off, unable to keep the sadness from his voice.

"I didn't go to work, I went to Stars Hollow," she answered. No more lies, she had decided. It was time to use the truth. She looked up at him, her hands in her lap, closed around the ring. "I don't want to be half in this."

"Why'd you go to Stars Hollow?"

"I went to say goodbye to Jess. I wanted things to be okay between us, and I wanted to see him one last time."

"Oh." It was more of an exhale than an actual word. Sam rubbed his forehead, unsure of what Rory was trying to say.

"I want to marry you," she said quietly, "but I don't think I can."

"Rory…"

"I love you. You were _never_ a replacement or a backup while I waited for him. You were my best friend in college, and I swear, I don't know what I would have done without you." She stood and took a step toward him, but paused, afraid to go closer. "You made me happy," she continued. "You_ make _me happy. You made my life so much easier. You made me forget. And when I had to remember, you made it okay."

"Rory," he repeated, unable to come up with something more.

"When I left this morning, it felt like I had made a mistake saying goodbye to Jess, but I thought once I got home, _here_, it would be okay." She paused, squeezing the ring. "It still feels wrong."

Sam took a step back from her; then another, and another. He hit the counter, and leaned against it, needing it to keep him upright.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice failing her.

"I know," he responded, nearly choking. "I know."

----

She had thought that when she saw Sam, she would be filled with the sight of him. Their apartment, her home, would be enough to rid her of the doubt that had lingered after her trip to Stars Hollow. But instead, it had stayed strong, solidifying its presence when Sam walked in, and she felt near tears. She loved him; she knew she did. Staying with him was the right thing to do, the _logical_ decision. It had been too long to consider something with Jess. But she couldn't doubt what she had felt; right now, she couldn't doubt what she was doing.

As soon as he answered the door, she spoke, letting everything out in a rush. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for not telling you about him, and I'm sorry hurting you, and for showing up again and again. I'm sorry for this morning, for doubting you, and for making you think that this was over."

"Rory, what —"

"I gave back the ring," she finished, holding up her hand to show him. "I can't marry Sam when I'm thinking about you, and wonderingwhat could have been."

"You can't stay with me, thinking about him."

"Jess, I love him, but… I can live without him," she began, trying so hard to explain. "I don't think I can do that with you. Not again."

His entire expression changed with this admission, but still he didn't take a step back to allow her in. "It's been —"

"What's the past five years when you compare them to the next five? The next ten?" She asked, beating back every argument Jess could use. "Time passes, people change," she recited, remembering what he said earlier, "but the way I feel about you… it didn't change."

A moment went by in which she waited, silently begging him to say something. She wanted him to know that she had made the right decision. That after today, no matter what happened, she wanted him, to get to know him, fall in love with him again. The years had passed, and so much had changed over time, but she now realized, it didn't matter. It could work; it could last.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" He asked, already stepping out into the hallway.

"A walk?" She repeated blankly.

"Or we could just sit on a bench… stare at our shoes."

She could only stare. His words were a comfort, something old and familiar, and it made her want to cry. This was him, Jess, five years ago and today. He was still hers; he was still him, no matter how much time had passed.

"That sounds nice," she nodded, feeling a slow smile grace her face. "I've got nothing but time."

* * *

**A/N**: Surprisingly, this is only the second fic I've ever finished on this site, one part works aside. So therefore, I get to make a few thank yous before I let you on your way.

Thanks to everyone who has ever reviewed this, or read this, and silently enjoyed. Thanks for giving it a chance, and for following me over the months. Thanks to those who read, but stopped after it seemed I'd never write this again. Thanks to the new readers who joined late, and sent me encouraging words. Thanks to Marissa for the endless support, the gentle prodding to update, and for overall being a really great friend. Also, to Lia for being wonderful and for her help and advice with this final chapter. And then thanks to the usual suspects: Mai (!!), Becka, Arianna, Melissa, Ali, Lee, and all my wonderful Lit friends on

Thanks for reading. Please, drop me a line, and let me know what you think.


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